Public Displays
by RiddikulusRaven
Summary: Fed up with Ron and Lavender's nauseating displays of PDA, Hermione impulsively throws herself at the next guy who walks through the door. In hindsight, she probably should have made sure it wasn't her arch nemesis Draco Malfoy before she jumped him. (Cover image by milady666 (DeviantArt); words added by me, but no claim to image.)
1. Fed Up

A/N: I've been going through this story and updating random things such as the timeline—and like Hermione _not_ being in Muggle Studies because she so clearly dropped it at the end of 3rd year and I'm a ditz that forgot. ;) Also, I invented the professor for Ancient Studies, Professor Priscilla Keane (Ancient Studies is the study of super old types of magic; there wasn't a known teacher for it canonically).

Disclaimer: I don't own HP or any of its subsidiaries. Even if I did, I would probably still be here writing fanfiction. Or would it be reality? I'm not sure I know which is which anyway.

* * *

Chapter One: Fed Up

* * *

Hermione lifted herself onto the empty teacher's desk and slouched in defeat. Stupid Ron. Stupid _Lavender_. How could Ron do this to her? She had been so sure that he knew how she felt, and then he just up and decided that _Lavender Brown_ was a better girlfriend. It hurt. She pulled out her wand, half tempted to begin blasting apart the classroom furniture.

Instead, she simply muttered, " _Avis_."

Five tiny yellow birds shot out of her wand and began circling over her head, tweeting merrily. Of course the birds would be cheerful; it was an ironic twist on her dark mood.

The door opened slowly, and a familiar dark head peered into the room. "Hermione?"

She looked up. "Oh, hello, Harry." Her voice sounded strange in her ears. She noticed him examining the birds still flittering overhead. "I was just practicing."

"Yeah," he said, sounding horribly awkward. "They're—er—really good . . ."

"Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations." Her voice, too high-pitched and reedy, was incredibly bitter. That utter _prat_.

"Er . . . does he?" Harry hedged.

"Don't pretend you didn't see him," she snapped. "He wasn't exactly hiding it, was—" She broke off as the door burst open again.

Tears filled Hermione's eyes when she saw Ron enter, Lavender just behind him, clinging to his hand and giggling like a twelve-year-old.

"Oh!" Ron stopped mid-step and immediately decided to stare at the floor rather than look her in the eye. So he _did_ know. Bastard.

"Oops!" Lavender giggled again, then turned and left the room.

Hermione ignored the brainless girl and glared at Ron, willing him to look at her. He wouldn't. He definitely knew how she felt; apparently he no longer held any interest in her. It made her feel even more desolate than when she'd entered the abandoned classroom.

And then Ron spoke. "Hi, Harry! Wondered where you'd got to!" He didn't bother acknowledging her at all.

Suddenly furious, she got back to her feet. Annoyingly, the birds followed her movements. She fought back the snarl that wanted to transform her features and whispered, "You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside; she'll wonder where you've gone."

Hermione walked past him, holding herself as high and proud as she could. When she opened the door, Lavender was leaning against the opposite wall, looking rather smug. Lavender gave her a little wave, and suddenly Hermione couldn't hold back her fury any longer. She spun back toward Ron.

" _Oppugno_!" She watched with little satisfaction as the birds sped at Ron and began attacking him.

"Gerremoffme!" Ron batted his hands around in the air, trying to swat the birds away.

And then she stormed out the door, failing to hold back a sob as it slammed behind her.

* * *

Ron spent the next several weeks essentially glued to Lavender's face. It made Hermione sick to her stomach. She tried to avoid him whenever possible. If she encountered Ron and Lavender walking down a corridor, staring lovey-eyes at each other, she would immediately turn and go in the opposite direction. If they were in a room she was entering, or if they entered a room she was already in, she would leave. But she couldn't avoid them everywhere. She still shared a dorm with Lavender, and she was still in almost every class with both of them.

Hermione's life sucked. The longer this _thing_ with Lavender continued, though, the lower her regard for Ron became. By the end of November, she was pretty sure she hated him. By the start of December, she _knew_ she did, and she wanted to do something to hurt him. Something that would wound him as deeply as he'd wounded her.

She briefly thought she'd got the best of him when she invited Cormac McLaggen to Slughorn's Christmas party, but that blew up in her face. McLaggen was even more insufferable than Ron. As soon as was possible, she ditched the horny teenage boy and returned to her sulking.

And aside from that, she wasn't really the type of person to _want_ to hurt the people she cared about. It wasn't in her nature to be that way. After everyone returned from Christmas holiday, Hermione decided she was going to ignore Ron's atrocious behavior and Lavender's in-your-face-Hermione attitude. It wasn't worth her sanity.

Her resolve to be the better person vanished one morning, nearly two months after Ron had started dating Lavender. Hermione's grip on her emotions had been tenuous at the best of times, and it was growing more brittle by the day. So when she walked into the Great Hall for breakfast that morning, only to see Ron and Lavender going at it _yet again_ , she snapped.

That bastard was going to get his due. Right. Now. Hermione decided that she was going to snog the next boy to walk into the room—assuming he was of age, obviously. She waited just inside the doors for a boy to enter the hall. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a tall, masculine figure strutting toward her. When he passed the threshold, she reached out and grabbed him by his tie, then yanked him towards her and planted her lips firmly against his.

The boy stiffened in surprise, his arms held awkwardly at his sides. He just stood there, frozen in place, his eyes wide and staring into hers. Grey eyes. Fathomless grey eyes that had only ever sent her looks of deepest loathing in the past.

And then she realized just who it was she had assaulted.

Draco Malfoy.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock—and the smallest bit of fright—until the perplexing Slytherin relaxed against her grip and began kissing her back. His eyes fluttered closed and he moved his mouth languidly against hers, even though he knew who he was kissing. That fact suddenly made it so . . . delightfully dangerous to continue snogging him.

The Great Hall grew silent around them, but Hermione no longer cared what anyone thought of her display. She released her grip on Draco's tie only to wind her arms around his neck and hold him closer. He wrapped his arms around her waist, effectively closing any space that had been between their bodies before. Butterflies coursed through Hermione's stomach, and she couldn't for the life of her remember why she had hated this wonderful boy for so many years.

Draco turned slightly to pin her against the wall. He lifted her up the slightest bit, and she wrapped her legs around his waist for better leverage. He let out a small groan and deepened the kiss, thoroughly exploring her mouth and tongue with his own. She had never felt more alive.

Hermione would have happily continued snogging Draco had they not been rudely interrupted at that moment by an enraged redhead.

"Hermione, what the _hell_?!"

Ron grabbed Draco's shoulder and roughly pulled him away from the wall. Hermione released her grip on Draco, and he clumsily lowered her to her feet as he stumbled backwards. Then Ron spun Draco around and punched him squarely in the face.

Draco raised a hand to his jaw and rubbed it. "Is there a problem, Weasel?" he drawled.

"You're damn right there's a problem! Keep your ratty paws off of Hermione!"

Draco just raised an eyebrow. "And if I don't?"

Ron glowered at him. "I'll kill you, Ferret. Leave her alone."

Hermione finally found her voice. "Shut up, Ron. You're such a hypocrite. You don't get a say in who I can or can't kiss. Bugger off." She spun on her heel and marched out of the Great Hall, trying her best to ignore the rapidly spreading whispers that followed her.

She was halfway to the Grand Staircase when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Granger, wait!"

Hermione's eyes popped open in shock once more. _Draco_ had followed her? She cautiously turned to face him. He slowed as he approached, and she gulped nervously.

"What _was_ that, back there?" Draco asked softly.

"Er . . ." She had lost her voice once more. "I . . ."

Draco rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. "Spit it out already."

And the floodgates opened. Hermione suddenly spilled everything that had happened since that stupid Quidditch game in November; everything she'd felt or thought, all of it, in excruciating detail. She couldn't stop herself until the story had reached its end, with her last-second decision to snog whoever she next encountered. Then she waited apprehensively, certain that Draco would hex her or worse.

Instead, he grinned maliciously. "What do you say we mess with the weasel's head a bit?"

She felt an answering smirk come to life on her lips. "I thought you'd never ask."

Hermione and Draco quickly found an empty classroom on the fifth floor to discuss their plan. She began pacing in front of a desk nervously.

"So how are we going to do this?"

"Well, I see two possibilities, and each is equally plausible," he replied in a rather businesslike tone. "One, we can mimic Weasel's atrocious behavior and act like a lovesick couple. Or two, we can pretend to be using each other for . . . extracurricular companionship, if you get my meaning." He sat gracefully on a chair and nonchalantly crossed one leg over the other. It was rather sexy.

Simultaneously, both ideas attracted and repulsed her, and she dazedly sank into her own seat. But which idea would anger Ron the most?

"I think if we were to act like a lovesick couple, he would just think we'd been given a love potion or something. If we go with the second option, it will appear to be something I decided with a clear head. What do you think?"

Draco slowly nodded his head. "I see your point." He eyed her appreciatively for a moment. "However, should we follow plan one, Weasel would soon discover that there is no love potion involved, and therefore still something that you decided on your own."

Hermione's cheeks flushed hot as Draco continued letting his gaze roam over her body. Once again at a loss for words, she nodded slowly. Draco grinned suggestively.

"Perhaps you'd like to go with both plans at once?"

She gulped. "I—I don't know . . . maybe?"

"I'll let you think about it."

After a lengthy and somewhat uncomfortable pause, she asked, "So what's your motivation in doing this?"

"You mean besides seeing the weasel squirm?"

"Obviously."

Draco's devious expression quickly morphed to one of solemnity. In his eyes, Hermione could see that he was conflicted and . . . maybe a little scared?

"Let's just say I need a good distraction this year and leave it at that."

She could tell that pushing the subject right now would not work out in her favor, so she let it drop.

"When do you want to put our scheme into action?"

Once again, Draco's expression became heated as he let his gaze wander over her body. Hermione flushed again, whether in embarrassment or pleasure she wasn't sure.

"How about now?" he suggested.

"B-but nobody's around," she stuttered.

Draco got to his feet and sauntered toward her. "And?"

Hermione stood up so fast her chair toppled over. She began walking backwards as Draco got closer. "And . . . and why would we?"

He had finally backed her up against the wall and pinned her in place by putting one hand on either side of her head. He leaned in close until his lips brushed against her ear. "Just imagine if someone walked in and saw what we were doing," he whispered. The action was oddly seductive, and Hermione found it highly erotic. "Rumors would be sure to spread like wildfire."

Hermione looked up and met his intense gaze. The heat smoldering in his grey eyes was temptation enough, and she closed the distance between their lips hungrily. Draco stepped in closer and pressed his body against hers, devouring her lips like a starving man.

While their earlier snogging session had been intense and mind-blowing, this was ten times better. There was a barely restrained need behind Draco's movements, and it drew out of Hermione something she'd never felt before. She lifted her hands and ran her fingers through his hair, gently scraping his scalp with her fingernails. He growled low in his throat and lifted her by her hips to bring her level with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist once more, suddenly feeling like she would never get enough of Draco's brain-melting kisses. She truly had no coherent thoughts running through her mind; she was acting purely on instinct.

And just like before, they were interrupted—this time by the bell signaling that it was time for their first class of the day. Draco kissed her slowly one more time before setting her back on her feet.

"Shall I walk you to class?" he murmured.

Hermione struggled— _yet again_ —to find words. She gulped and said, "Sure. Sounds good."

Draco smirked and took her hand before leading her from the classroom. "I was thinking . . . maybe I'll get really bored during Potions later today."

"Okay," she whispered. Her response just caused Draco's smirk to widen.

Hermione's heart was thumping furiously. She could hardly believe the turn that her day had taken already. She'd zealously snogged Draco Malfoy twice . . . and now she was holding his hand! She felt lightheaded for a moment. The logical side of her brain demanded that she think about what she was doing and insisted that it was incredibly stupid. The passionate side of her brushed those thoughts aside quickly and maintained that this thing—whatever it was—would turn out to be unforgettable.

* * *

True to his word, Draco walked her all the way to her Ancient Studies class. When they stopped outside the door, he looked at her intensely for a moment, then placed a soft kiss upon her lips. His free hand lifted to cup her cheek affectionately.

Hermione nearly swooned at the tenderness of the gesture.

"I'll see you later," Draco murmured before turning to walk away.

"See you," she said, her voice nearly inaudible. Her stomach was fluttering nervously.

Ignoring the stares of her fellow classmates, Hermione marched into the classroom with her head held high. If she wanted people to believe the performance, she had to act like it didn't affect her—the way it actually was at the moment. She put a brilliant smile on her face and sat at her usual desk. When Professor Keane's back was turned, the rest of the class would begin whispering behind their hands, and Hermione was well aware of it. She really couldn't have cared less.

What Hermione didn't expect was to find Draco waiting outside the classroom for her. She realized after a moment, though, that it made sense since they both had Arithmancy next. Draco once again took her hand, and they began the trek across the castle to their next class.

"How was Ancient Studies?" he asked conversationally.

Hermione reigned in her surprise, reminding herself that he was just acting— _really_ well. "It was actually really interesting. We discussed the old types of curses used to protect Ancient Egyptian tombs. I can see why Bill Weasley became a Curse-Breaker after hearing about some of those spells."

Draco nodded. "Now I really wish I had dropped Divination to study something more worthwhile."

Hermione snorted. "Remind me to tell you the story of how I stormed out of Divination in third year."

He smirked. "Sounds like a good one."

She looked into his eyes. "Oh, it is."

"Hermione? What are you doing with _him_?"

She and Draco stopped in their tracks to see Ron and Lavender staring at them. It was Ron that had spoken.

Hermione put her free hand on her hip. "What, is it a crime to walk to class with my boyfriend now?"

Ron's face paled. "B-boyfriend?"

"Yes, Ronald. My boyfriend." She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Draco. We'll be late to class."

Draco kissed her cheek. "See you round, Weasel."

Hermione fought back laughter at the sounds of Ron's unintelligible sputtering behind them. When they were safely around the next corner, she said, "This is going to be so much fun."

"I couldn't have said it better myself."


	2. It's Just Acting, Right?

Chapter Two: It's Just Acting, Right?

* * *

Draco ditched his usual seat by his friend Blaise to sit by Hermione during Arithmancy. He held her hand on top of the desk for everyone to see. Every last Slytherin in attendance stared at them, often throwing Draco nasty glares and hissing insults at him. Draco just ignored them and kept taking notes.

When class was over, Hermione held her breath, wondering what he would do. In a show of maintaining their charade, Draco once again took her hand, and they began the walk down to the Great Hall for lunch.

The Grand Staircase was crowded as they approached it. Halfway down, Draco squeezed her hand and said, "Now that everyone knows we're together, you should eat lunch with me."

Hermione just barely managed to hold back her shocked expression by standing on tiptoe and kissing his cheek. "I'd love to."

Draco smiled and leaned in close. "Ready for another good snog?" he whispered.

She felt herself blush as she nodded.

With a smirk, he led them the rest of the way downstairs and to the Slytherin table. They took seats beside each other at the very end. Hermione assumed it was just in case they needed a quick getaway. As she reached for the ham sandwiches, a brilliant idea occurred to her. Instead of placing the sandwich on her own plate, she put it on Draco's.

He played along well and filled her plate with some barbeque-flavored crisps. She placed another sandwich on her own plate while Draco filled both of their goblets with ice-cold pumpkin juice. Hermione smiled at him.

The now-familiar heated look returned to Draco's eyes, and he leaned in to kiss her. Hermione responded enthusiastically, quickly forgetting about the food on the table before them. She wound her fingers into Draco's hair as he deepened the kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he straddled the bench so he could pull her closer.

As much as Hermione told herself that she was just acting—just doing what would make Ron the angriest—the fluttering in her stomach and the furious pounding of her heart told a completely different story.

Draco's hands tightened against her back, then began wandering lower. He pulled Hermione even closer, and she let him. But when she stumbled across evidence that Draco wasn't just acting, that he was more than enjoying himself, she panicked. She pulled away from him with a sharp jerk. He looked at her in confusion.

"I—er—we should eat before it's time for Potions," she stuttered.

The look of confusion only lessened slightly, but he turned to his plate and began eating. Hermione felt a strange sensation of regret for how abruptly she had moved away; it almost looked as though Draco was hurt by her actions. So she did the only thing she could think to do. She took his right hand in hers and squeezed it softly.

Draco looked down at her, the expression in his eyes warm. He lifted their joined hands to rest on top of the table, then resumed eating like nothing had happened. Hermione relaxed slightly. There was one thing that she couldn't wrap her head around, though: just why did she care about Draco's feelings so much?

After the excitement of lunch, Potions was rather uneventful. Hermione and Draco got a strange look from Slughorn when he walked into the classroom and saw them sitting together, but aside from that, nobody commented. This, perhaps more than any other reaction she'd received that day, unsettled Hermione the most.

So when it was time to begin the practical part of the lesson, she leaned in toward Draco and whispered, "Maybe we need to step it up a notch. It's like nobody's noticed anything out of the ordinary."

He nodded. "What did you have in mind?"

She shrugged. "It's not like there's a lot we can do right now, is there?"

A sly grin made its way onto Draco's face. "I don't know about that. I did say I'd get bored during Potions, didn't I?"

Hermione's stomach alighted with butterflies once again. She was startled to realize that she really wanted to have another good snog, Potions lesson be damned.

"And just how bored are you?" she asked, sounding braver than she felt.

Draco grinned again. "About this much." And then he leaned in and kissed her.

Without her express permission, Hermione's arms immediately went around Draco's neck. He slid her stool closer to his own while simultaneously deepening the kiss. When she had been brought as close as physically possible, Draco slid his hand through the opening in her robe. His warm fingers explored her stomach and began to wander higher when someone cleared their throat rather loudly.

It was Professor Slughorn. His arms were folded across his chest, and he looked utterly unamused. "Must I remind you that this is a classroom?" he said.

Color rose on Hermione's cheeks. She quickly shoved away from Draco and straightened out her robe, feeling mortified. The entire class was staring at the pair of them in shock—and some with revulsion. Hermione couldn't believe she'd let Draco get so familiar with her in _class_ of all places! She looked down at her textbook, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

"Sorry, Professor," Draco said calmly. Hermione could practically hear his smirk. "It's just rather freeing to be so public about our relationship now."

Professor Slughorn chuckled. "Yes, yes, I quite understand. Young love and all that. But this is not the place for such antics. Don't let it happen again."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione mumbled.

"How was that for a show?" Draco whispered once the professor had retreated.

She gulped. "A bit . . . forward," she said nervously, glancing up at their classmates.

He nodded. "I'm sorry if that was too much," he said demurely. "I suppose I should've asked first, but—"

"No," Hermione interrupted. "It was unexpected. And to be fair, we didn't really talk about what _this_ encompassed."

"Perhaps we should save it for when we're not in class," he replied.

"Yeah, of course."

Draco smiled crookedly at her. He glanced in Professor Slughorn's direction, then leaned in and gave her a quick, chaste kiss.

Hermione blushed as he pulled away. Thankfully, the rest of their classmates had stopped their whispering and were working on their potions. While Hermione was still incredibly embarrassed about what had just happened, she couldn't help but think that things were looking up now that she was spending time with Draco Malfoy.

* * *

About a week into Hermione's deal with Draco, after giving her "boyfriend" a good morning kiss, she joined Harry, Ron, and Ginny at the breakfast table. Harry was unusually fidgety and looking anywhere but at Hermione. Ginny stared at Ron disapprovingly, but kept her mouth shut. Ron simply reached over, filled a goblet with pumpkin juice, and slid it over to Hermione.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, but picked up the goblet anyway. "Morning all."

Harry looked up and opened his mouth to say something right as Hermione took a sip from her drink, and her suspicions were confirmed. Ron had slipped something into her drink. She smirked, anticipating just how this would play out. She actually rather fancied slapping Ron across the face.

"So, er, how are you feeling?" Ron asked after a moment.

Hermione feigned confusion. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," he replied, fidgeting slightly.

She frowned at him, but began loading her plate with eggs and a croissant rather than question him. She knew exactly what was going on, and she knew Ron would get to it in his own time.

Or he would have, had Lavender not stormed up to him at that moment.

"I need to talk to you," she demanded.

"Not now, Lav. I'm eating," Ron complained.

Lavender stomped her foot. "Either we go talk somewhere else, or I say my piece right here in front of everyone."

"Lav," Ron whined, stretching her nickname out until it had nearly four syllables.

Lavender's eyes narrowed dangerously. "That's it. I've had enough!"

Hermione looked up at her sharply, but remained silent.

"Lav, what—"

"You've been obsessing over . . . over _her_ all week." She gestured angrily in Hermione's direction. "You're dating _me_ , so why does her love life matter to you?"

Obsessing, huh?

"Because, if she's being coerced into it, she'd hate us for not helping!" Ron snapped.

Hermione got the distinct impression that her friends had forgotten she was sitting right there. And sure enough, when she cleared her throat and Ron met her gaze, he turned scarlet.

"What is she talking about, Ron?"

"Nothing," he insisted. "Just . . . drink more pumpkin juice or something."

She stood up slowly. "Why? So you can continue to force a love potion antidote down my throat? How dare you?" She turned an accusatory glare on Harry. "And _you_! How could you let Ron do this?"

"But 'Mione, you've got to be under some kind of love spell! Why else would you be with—eugh— _Malfoy_?" Ron insisted.

That did it. She reached across the table and smacked him across the face as hard as she could. It felt great; he'd had it coming for _years_.

"For your information, _Ronald_ , I am not under the influence of a spell or potion of any kind," Hermione fumed. "And if I were, your supposed antidote would have removed it. I don't feel any different, nor do I regret dating Draco. So the next time you want to do me a favor, do me a favor and _stay out of it_."

Hermione spun around and marched out of the Great Hall. Out of the corner of her eye, as she passed the Slytherin table, she noticed Draco look up. Shortly after she left the room, he followed behind her.

"Everything okay?" Draco asked.

"Yes," she chuckled. "Ron just tried to slip me an antidote to a love potion, though."

Draco laughed. "I wondered when he'd get to that."

"Took longer than I thought it would, to be honest," Hermione replied.

"Well, at least now he knows that you're with me voluntarily."

"Yep."

Draco reached over and pulled her to him. After planting a soft kiss on her lips, he said, "So, what would you like to do today?"

"Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?" Hermione suggested.

"Sounds good to me." Draco reached for her hand. "But first, let's stop by Tomes and Scrolls. There're a few books I've been wanting to buy."

The pair walked to Hogsmeade together, along with a few other early risers. It was a lovely morning, even though snow was falling fast and thick around them. Hermione couldn't help but think that it was quite romantic. And who'd have thought that Draco Malfoy had a romantic side anyway?

When they entered the bookshop, she glanced up only to see a forgotten sprig of mistletoe hanging above them. Draco followed her gaze, then grinned at her. He surged forward and kissed Hermione deeply. She wrapped her arms around his neck, thoroughly enjoying being snogged. And while Hermione knew she was far from feeling anything extraordinary for Draco, she suddenly realized that something _was_ growing. They had only been playing their charade for a week, but maybe—just maybe—it would turn out to be more than just acting in the end.


	3. Turn Into the Skid

Chapter Three: Turn Into the Skid

* * *

Once Harry had gotten over his initial shock of seeing Hermione with Draco, he returned full-force to his crusade against the Slytherin. Hermione thought that maybe on some level Harry had a point, but Draco didn't seem to be acting any more suspicious than in years past. He did excuse himself early from dinner quite often, and occasionally Hermione wouldn't be able to find him on weekends, but that didn't mean he was a Death Eater or that he was breaking any school rules.

In fact, Hermione stalwartly refused to believe fully what Harry claimed. Why would Draco be spending so much time with her if he was evil? If he was truly a Death Eater, he would be very anti-Muggle-born, and yet he spent so much time with her, much of it with his tongue down her throat. That definitely didn't scream Voldemort supporter to her. And yet Harry still insisted that Draco was behind the incident that ended with Katie being cursed in October.

He was also positive that Draco was planning something else. Hermione did her best to ignore her friend's rantings, and continued to snog Draco at every opportunity. It was becoming an addiction, really. When she was kissing him, they were never close enough, never snogging quite enough. When they were apart, Hermione thought constantly about the next time she'd get to kiss Draco, and she craved it endlessly. Yes, Draco Malfoy was a drug to her overtaxed brain and heart.

* * *

Almost too quick to perceive, January had ended and Valentine's Day was dawning. Hermione awoke feeling unusually excited. Even though the whole thing with Draco was fake, it was still the first year she'd ever had a boyfriend to celebrate the holiday with. She genuinely hoped that he had something planned for them.

It turned out that he did. When Hermione left Gryffindor Tower, Draco was waiting for her. He handed her a single red rose, then kissed her deeply for several minutes.

"Be my Valentine?" he murmured.

She grinned broadly. "Gladly."

At breakfast, they enjoyed a good laugh watching all the giggly girls bombard the boys with cards and candies. Several boys, Harry included, wound up with large stacks of boxes in front of them. Hermione was briefly tempted to tell Harry to chuck the lot—Romilda Vane still seemed to harbor a crush on him, after all—but became distracted when Draco began talking to her about their latest Arithmancy assignment.

The rest of the day passed quickly, and Hermione found herself in a better mood than she had been in for several months as she prepared for bed. She definitely never thought that Draco Malfoy would end up being a source of happiness for her, and yet here they were. As she drifted off to sleep, she wondered vaguely if she really did feel something for him. It was probably just the lingering effects of the holiday, but she dreamed that night that she fancied Draco, and that they lived happily ever after.

* * *

The next two weeks flew by, with Draco being absent from dinner more and more often. Hermione worried about him, but still ignored Harry when he would say that Draco was up to no good. She had to believe that Draco was simply overwhelmed with schoolwork. Otherwise, it might be true that he was planning something bad, and she didn't think she could handle that.

Hermione spent Ron's birthday hiding in the library. She had considered buying him a gift, but ultimately didn't because of the fact that they hadn't spoken a friendly word to each other since the antidote incident at breakfast back in January. Draco stopped by to eat lunch with her, but was soon rushing off again, claiming he had "stuff" to do.

It wasn't until later that evening, when Harry burst into the common room in a panic, that Hermione found herself ready to completely forgive Ron. Apparently the Chocolate Cauldrons that Romilda Vane had given Harry just before Christmas were laced with a love potion. Ron had eaten them, found himself "in love" with Romilda, and was then carted off to Slughorn's office (by Harry) to receive an antidote. Once there, Slughorn offered to share some brandy with the boys; it turned out the drink had contained poison, and Ron had fallen victim to it.

Hermione raced to the hospital wing with Harry, desperate to make sure that Ron would be okay. Luckily Harry had done some quick thinking and had given Ron a bezoar, but Ron was still in bad shape. When Hermione saw him lying in the hospital bed, unconscious, she felt like crying. All this time she'd spent fighting with him and ignoring him—he could have died, and they never would have reconciled.

While she didn't think she fancied Ron anymore, she couldn't bear the thought of not having him as a friend for a second longer. She resolved that as soon as Ron woke up, she would apologize. Feeling somewhat obligated to, she sat down beside his bed and held his hand while he slept.

Lavender stopped by the next morning, but left in a flurry of tears after Ron mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like Hermione's name. For her part, Hermione dropped Ron's hand like it had scalded her and jumped to her feet in a panic. In his unconscious state, it seemed as though Ron was finally admitting what he wouldn't say while awake. Hermione sincerely hoped that Ron wouldn't remember what happened, and sprinted from the hospital wing with a muttered excuse to Harry about needing to finish up some homework.

* * *

A few days later, as Hermione and Draco left the Great Hall after lunch, they were stopped by Harry and Ron. Draco eyed them warily, and they glared back viciously.

"What is this?" Hermione asked her friends.

Ron flushed a bright crimson and didn't speak.

After glancing sideways at his best friend, Harry took a few steps forward and said, "What are you doing, Hermione? You're not acting like yourself lately."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And how would you know what I act like anymore, Harry? You're too busy angsting over your own life to know what's been going on in mine." She lowered her voice so only he and Draco would be able to hear her. "Ever since Ron started up with Lavender, Draco's been here for me."

Harry pursed his lips. "Can I talk to you for a moment? Alone?"

Draco's grip on her hand tightened, and she turned to him. "It's okay. I'll be right back." He nodded.

Hermione followed Harry into an empty classroom right off the entrance hall. He closed the door and muttered a quick locking charm before facing her. He folded his arms over his chest and stared at her crossly.

"You know he's been up to something, Hermione."

She rolled her eyes. Oh, yes. Harry's _Theory_. "He's not a Death Eater."

"You can't know that! Why is he always in the Room of Requirement? What was he talking to his Slytherin pals about on the train back in September? Why did Snape offer to help him with some project or other?" Harry spouted his questions in rapid succession.

Hermione had never been skilled at lying, especially to her friends. But in this moment, she knew she had to pull off an award-winning performance; Draco's well being just might depend upon it.

"He's in the Room of Requirement with me," she said, thinking quickly. "I ran into him there at the beginning of the year, and we became each others' confidants. He's been there for me while you've been busy with Dumbledore, and he's been there for me while Ron's been a complete git."

Harry pursed his lips skeptically. "But then what was he talking to his friends about on the train? Malfoy very clearly said that Voldemort wanted him to do something important!"

Right.

Hermione shook her head, attempting to come off as somewhat condescending. "You misunderstood, Harry. It's true that Voldemort tried to get Draco to join the Death Eaters, but his mother managed to convince him that if Draco finished his education, he'd be much more valuable as a Death Eater. Draco and his mother defected last summer, long before the battle at the Ministry, even. They're acting as spies with Snape."

"I don't know, 'Mione. I just don't trust him." Harry frowned, then said, "Besides, I thought you had a thing for Ron."

She scoffed loudly. "Yeah, four months ago. And then he went and broke my heart with Lavender of all girls. I've moved on."

"They broke up, you know," Harry said quietly.

"Is that supposed to change my mind?" Hermione asked somewhat rudely. "Ron still acted like a complete git. I know we're back on speaking terms now, but I just can't entertain the idea of us being a couple again. It nearly ruined our friendship the last time around. I'm with Draco now; you're going to have to accept that."

"Just . . . please be careful with him. _Please_."

"I promise, Harry. And if you can't trust Draco, then trust me, okay?"

He pulled her into a tight hug. "I'll try."

They walked back to the entrance hall together, where Draco was lounging against the banister of the Grand Staircase. Hermione hurried over to him. He looked back at Harry and Ron, then took her hand and led her into the dungeons.

As they descended the stairs, Hermione murmured, "I covered for you with Harry."

Draco looked at her sharply. Then he dragged her into yet another abandoned classroom. He locked the door and placed a Silencing Charm around it.

"What in Salazar's name is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

Hermione's brow furrowed. "We both know that Harry was spying on you in your train compartment in September. He's come to his own conclusions about what you said, and I tried to throw him off that track."

Draco scowled fiercely at her. For the first time in nearly three months, Hermione realized that he really didn't look very healthy. She had been distracted by his passionate side—by the rosy flush that tinted his cheeks during a snogging session—and now she was left feeling extremely guilty about her apparent lack of observation. But now, in the dim light of the dungeons, she could see deep bruises beneath Draco's eyes. His face was more sallow than normal, and he looked sleep-deprived.

Gently, she reached out and traced one of the circles beneath his eyes with her thumb. "What's going on, Draco?"

Almost unconsciously, he leaned into her soft touch. "Hell."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't understand," she whispered.

Ever so slowly, Draco pulled away and stretched out his left arm. Then he reached over and pulled up the sleeve of his robe. There, nearly glowing against his pale skin, was the Dark Mark. Hermione gasped loudly.

Harry was right.

Draco was a Death Eater.

"Please, it's not what you think," Draco whispered.

"I don't understand," Hermione repeated dumbly.

"I don't want to do it!" he exclaimed desperately. "I _can't_ do it! But he'll kill me, he'll kill my mother, and I don't know what else to do! Hermione, I'm . . . I'm afraid." He looked at the ground, appearing ashamed of his weakness.

Somehow, Hermione understood. Empathy washed through her veins, and instead of running away like her brain was instructing, she rushed into Draco's arms. He pulled her close and buried his nose in her hair as though she were his lifeline.

"Will you let me help you?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know what you think you can do that I haven't already tried," he muttered.

She took a deep breath before continuing. "We could go to Dumbledore. He'll help you, I know he will."

"But will he help my mother? I won't risk her life, Hermione. I can't."

"The only way to find out is to ask." Hermione pulled back and put one hand on either side of Draco's face. "I'll come with you. You're not alone."

Draco leaned forward and captured her lips with his own. "Okay. But we can't miss classes, or someone will know something is going on."

"Off to class, then," Hermione said, smiling slightly.

"But first—"

He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly against him as he crushed his lips against hers once more. He wasted no time in slipping his tongue into her mouth, and she just clutched him tighter. Hermione tried to convey through their ardent movements just how much she cared about him. Somehow, she had developed feelings for this complex boy, and she would do whatever it took to lead him away from the life he'd been forced into.


	4. Making a U-Turn

Chapter Four: Making a U-Turn

* * *

A few days later, they finally found the time to speak with Dumbledore without it attracting undue attention. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, so most of the castle was empty of activity. As they left the Great Hall after breakfast, Hermione finally asked the question that had been on her mind nearly since the beginning.

"Draco, how is it that you've been able to be so public about our fake relationship without your father knowing?"

He swallowed visibly. "Well, he does know."

"What? Then why hasn't he broken down the castle doors and killed me? Or you?" She frowned deeply.

"I may have told him it was a plan to spy on the enemy or something of that nature," Draco muttered, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably.

Hermione stopped dead in the middle of the entrance hall. "Really? That's actually quite brilliant, you know."

"It is?" he questioned unsurely.

"Absolutely!" she enthused. "It will throw your father so far off the mark that he won't suspect a thing, and you'll be safer."

Draco shook his head, a small rueful smirk appearing on his features. "You are remarkable, Granger."

She shrugged. "Well, I do try."

They resumed their trek across the castle to Dumbledore's office in silence, until Draco broke it by murmuring, "Is that all this is?"

"What?" She looked at him, startled.

"You said before that this relationship was fake," he explained quietly, not meeting her gaze.

She gulped. "Well, isn't it?"

"I guess I just thought—I mean, everyone else thinks it's real, so—" Draco stuttered to a stop, both in speech and movement. "Never mind; just forget I said anything." His expression turned angry.

"Hey," Hermione said, her brow furrowed. "Tell me what you were thinking, please."

He glared at her. "It's not important. Let's just go."

She pursed her lips in frustration, but nodded and began walking to Dumbledore's office again. Draco remained in a sullen silence. Hermione felt bewildered, to say the least, that his mood had soured so rapidly. He'd been more open and kind with her in the last several days than he had been throughout their whole "relationship," and she couldn't fathom what had caused his abrupt about-face. For a moment there, she had hoped he would say that he had feelings for her and that he wanted their relationship to be real. But now, with the way he was acting, she was suddenly worried that he would end their deal once he'd secured his mother's safety. She didn't like that thought one bit.

They reached Dumbledore's office without another word spoken between them. Hermione muttered the password dejectedly, and the gargoyle jumped into life before stepping aside and revealing the spiral staircase. She and Draco stepped on and rode the stairs up to the office door, which they found was open already. Dumbledore stood just inside, smiling congenially at them and holding his right hand behind his back.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy; what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you this morning?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at his use of the word "surprise." He had been waiting for them—surely it was no surprise. "Well Professor, Draco has a bit of a problem that we're hoping you can help him with," she explained, suspecting all the while that he knew what was going on.

"Ah yes. Come in and have a seat," Dumbledore said to Draco. They entered the office and Dumbledore moved behind his desk. "Severus informed me of your predicament."

Draco's mouth dropped open. "What?"

Dumbledore grinned. "Oh yes, he knows all about it. Your mother sought out his help over the summer, and his first move was to inform me of what had happened."

"Wow," Hermione breathed.

"I don't understand," Draco muttered, his face a mask of frustration. "Why didn't you offer to help me if you knew?"

"You had to come to me," he explained somewhat sadly. "If I were to approach you, there would likely be someone that would notice, and your life would be in further danger than it already is."

Hermione sank into a chair in front of Professor Dumbledore's desk. "What now?"

Dumbledore's happy demeanor faltered, and he sat in his chair with a heavy sigh. "Now I have to ask something very difficult of you both."

Slowly, Draco approached the other chair in front of the desk and sat down. "What?" he asked, his voice quavering.

"First, I must ask you not to repeat what we discuss in this room," Dumbledore started. "If this information were to fall into the wrong hands, many lives would be in danger. If I have to, I will extract Unbreakable Vows from each of you."

"I promise, Professor," Hermione said quickly. "I'll do whatever I can to help."

Draco nodded. "I won't do anything that would put my mother at risk."

"All right." Dumbledore took a deep breath, then said, "I'm dying."

Hermione gasped. "What?"

He nodded gravely and placed his right hand upon the desk. "The details are unimportant right now, but I've been cursed, and my time is running out."

"Professor . . ." Hermione bit back the tears that were threatening to fill her eyes.

Dumbledore just shook his head. "Do not be sorry, Miss Granger. There is nothing to be done. Professor Snape is doing what he can to slow the curse's progress, but I will probably be dead before the end of summer."

"Not to be rude, Professor," Draco said, "but how does this have anything to do with my situation?"

"Good question, Mr. Malfoy. It has a complicated and lengthy answer, but I'll give you two the summary. I have asked Professor Snape to finish the task you have been given by Voldemort."

Draco's eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. "What?" he choked out.

"What job—" Hermione started.

"Voldemort has tasked him with bringing about my demise," Dumbledore interrupted.

The room fell silent for a very long time. It was tense and awkward, and Hermione didn't want to be the one to break it. She knew that the rest of this conversation had to be between Draco and Professor Dumbledore.

"Sir, what does this mean?" Draco finally asked.

"It means that you do not have to kill me," he answered sagely. "But you do still have to put up the appearance of trying. I know you are trying to repair the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement. Continue to do so, and fulfill your task to the best of your ability. But do not kill me when the time comes."

Draco sagged in his chair, looking undeniably relieved.

"I can give you a few hints on how to repair that cabinet if you wish," Dumbledore added.

"Thank you, sir," Draco whispered. "But I do have one thing I need you to do."

Dumbledore smiled. "What is that?"

"Keep my mother safe. I don't care what you have to do, but get her out of the manor. Get her away from the Dark Lord. I won't go through with this plan if her life is still in danger." His voice hardened as he spoke, and Hermione was awed by his dedication to his family.

"I promise to get her to a safe house. I will notify you when she has been extracted. Do you want your father retrieved as well?"

"No," Draco said, his tone gruff. "My father is too far gone to be helped anymore. Besides, if both of my parents were to suddenly go missing, then suspicion would fall on me anyway."

"This is true," Dumbledore conceded. "What if we were to fake your mother's death? That would keep Voldemort and his followers from trying to find her, and you wouldn't be suspect."

"Do it."

* * *

Draco didn't speak to Hermione again for three days. She wanted to ask him what was going on, but figured that he was just anxious about his mother. Once that had been handled, he would probably be back to normal. Or at least his new normal. It wasn't until the article appeared in the Daily Prophet that she finally reached her breaking point.

Even though Hermione knew the incident was fake, she still felt great sorrow as she read the account of Narcissa Malfoy's supposed death.

 _ Malfoy Matriarch Slain_

 _Last night, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were attending a dinner in Diagon Alley when they were ambushed by unknown assailants. It is well-known that the Malfoys were aligned with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named during the First Wizarding War, although they adamantly_ _stated that they were under the Imperius Curse. No charges have ever been filed against the Malfoy family. The Auror Department stated that this is the reason Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were attacked._

 _Details are scarce about the actual incident, as Lucius Malfoy was not in a state to discuss what had happened. He was so distraught, in fact, that he required overnight hospitalization. Narcissa Malfoy was not so fortunate. Her body was discovered at the scene. It appeared that she had been hit by the Killing Curse in the midst of the attack. She was taken to St. Mungo's, but the healers were unable to revive her._

 _The only information Aurors were able to obtain from Mr. Malfoy was that their attackers were well disguised under hooded cloaks and black masks. As far as Aurors can tell, the attackers were not Death Eaters, nor were they aligned with You-Know-Who._

 _A private funeral for Narcissa Malfoy will be held this coming Saturday. She will be entombed in the Malfoy family mausoleum. All those who wish to pay their respects are asked to send flowers to the Ministry, addressed to Lucius Malfoy._

Hermione was unable to maintain her distance from Draco after that. She dropped her copy of the Daily Prophet on the table, startling Harry, Ron, and Ginny, then stormed over to the Slytherin table. Draco glanced up at her from his own copy of the newspaper, then simply stood up and walked out of the Great Hall. With a deep scowl, she stomped after him.

"Draco, stop!" she shouted when she was halfway across the entrance hall.

He paused where he stood at the entrance to the dungeons. "What do you want now, Granger?"

Her eyes widened. "So it's back to my surname now, is it?" she asked angrily.

"What do you want from me?" Draco snarled as he spun around to face her.

"The truth!"

"The truth?" he asked as he took a single step toward her. "You want the truth? Fine. I'm done with this. I am done walking around this school pretending to be in love with you. I'm done being your little boy toy." And then he disappeared into the dungeons before she could say another word.

Hermione was speechless, which was a rare occurrence. She slowly walked outside to the edge of the lake, pondering what he had said. Their deal hadn't ever really been to pretend to be in love, just to pretend to date. So why had he worded it like that? And what did he mean by saying he was done being her boy toy? Their deal was mutual, yet he was acting like he was some kind of victim.

She sat down on the shore of the lake, pulled her knees to her chest, and rested her chin on them. A heavy feeling settled in her chest, something she couldn't quite put a name to. And then she began to cry.

Had Draco really just broken off their arrangement? Hermione couldn't help but feel as though she had been well and truly dumped. What had she done wrong? She angrily swiped the tears from her face. Perhaps she was the problem. She had developed feelings for Draco sodding Malfoy; that was her first mistake. Her second was thinking she could trust him, and her third was hoping that he would want to keep up their charade once his mother was safe.

But Hermione Jean Granger was never one to take mistreatment lying down. She scrubbed the remains of her tears from her cheeks, stood up and straightened her robes, then marched back into the castle. She was going to find Draco and give him a piece of her mind. She would find out what had caused him to return to his former cold demeanor. And she would fix things between them, no matter the cost.


	5. Sectumsempra

Chapter Five: Sectumsempra

* * *

Hermione stomped her way into entrance hall, over to the stairs that led to the dungeons, and down into the dank basement of the school. She thought Draco was probably in his common room, but she also knew she had no way to get inside it. She only had the vaguest idea of where it was from Harry and Ron's excursion into the Slytherin common room in second year, but if she paced the nearest hallways long enough, perhaps someone would show up that she could force to reveal Draco's location.

She was therefore unprepared when she nearly walked face-first into Draco around the first corner she turned.

"Draco!"

He narrowed his eyes. "What do you want now?"

Hermione glared back at him fiercely. "Answers." She tightly clenched one of his hands in hers and dragged him into an empty classroom. Then she promptly Disarmed him, locked the door, and put up a Silencing Charm. "What the bloody hell is going on with you?" she snapped when she was done.

Draco sat down on top of a desk. "I've no idea what you mean."

Childishly, she stomped her foot. "Everything was fine between us a few days ago, now suddenly you're back to being cold and arrogant around me. I want to know why!"

"I don't feel like telling you why, so give me back my wand and bugger off."

"No."

Draco finally turned his head and met her gaze. "You can't keep me locked in here forever, Granger."

Hermione smirked at him. "You've no wand, and there's a Silencing Charm up around the room. Nobody can hear you but me."

He maintained his angry stare for another moment, then closed his eyes and nearly deflated with a resigned sigh. "Look, I've just got too much going on right now to keep up whatever it is we've been doing. It's been months; isn't that enough? The weasel's even broken up with his pathetic chit of a girlfriend, so go back to him now."

Hermione took a tentative step forward, confusion written all over her face. "I . . . I don't want to," she admitted.

"Well, I don't want to keep doing this anymore, Granger. I can't. Either way, it's time we both went back to our lives. I've got a lot of work to do on that bloody cabinet; it's not going to fix itself, you know."

She sighed in frustration. "If you'd quit being such a git, then I could help you! I thought we were at least friends now, Draco. Let me help!"

He got back to his feet, his face screwed up in anger. "Well you're wrong, then!" he shouted, towering over her. "We're not friends! We never have been, we never will be! I don't need, nor do I want your help."

Hermione swallowed thickly, fighting the rising lump in her throat. "Fine." She opened her mouth to continue but found herself incapable of words. Instead, she threw his wand onto the floor and raced out of the classroom before she burst into tears in front of him.

It was too late, she realized as she tucked herself into a long-forgotten corner of the dungeons. Somewhere along the way, she had fallen for Draco as they played out their little charade, and a part of her had even become convinced they were no longer acting. But Draco was a lot better at hiding his emotions apparently, for it appeared he had never really cared for her at all. She sobbed harder at the realization, hating that the broken shards of her heart were even more painful this time than they had been with Ron.

* * *

Everyone noticed immediately that Hermione and Draco were no longer cozied up to each other at all hours of the day. Harry was back to his relentless pursuit of Draco's supposed illegal activities, even though she tried to get him to back off. Ron was almost worse. For a few days he gloated about being right that Draco had been lying. After eventually noticing that it only made Hermione feel worse, he moved on to trying to win her affection. Hermione was almost sickened by his foolish behavior. How could she have ever thought herself in love with Ron? Yes, he was funny and a good friend when he had the mind to be, but he was also lazy and often completely disregarding of her feelings. In short, she was miserable. She had given up.

Hermione continued going about her days, doing homework, performing regular Prefect duties, and even attending her friends' Quidditch matches. Still, she was on the verge of tears almost constantly, and the ache in her chest seemed permanent. Roughly a month passed in this manner, with her heart breaking a little bit more every day.

Late one evening at the end of April, Hermione was again interrupted during her studies by a panicked Harry rushing into the common room. She was immediately on her feet and running over to him; he was covered in blood.

"Oh, Godric! Harry what happened? Are you all right? Why aren't you in the hospital wing?" she demanded.

Harry shook his head fiercely. "No, it's not my blood. I'm fine. It's—it's Malfoy's."

Hermione's eyes popped open almost comically. " _What?!_ " she screeched.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione, I didn't know what the spell would do, I didn't mean it. Please, you have to understand that I—"

"Shut up!" she yelled. "Where is he?"

"Snape took him to the hospital wing—"

But Hermione was racing out of the common room and down the corridor before she could hear what Harry had to say. All she could think as she ran was _please don't be dead, please don't be dead._ It took her less than two minutes to arrive at the hospital wing on the other side of the castle. She burst through the doors, looking wildly around the room for a hint of Draco.

"Miss Granger?"

She swung around to see Professor Dumbledore in the doorway behind her. " _Professor_ —"

Dumbledore held up a hand. "Calm down, Miss Granger. I can assure you that Mr. Malfoy will be perfectly fine—"

"I want to see him!"

"He has a private room back by Madam Pomfrey's office," Dumbledore explained patiently. "But I must insist you calm down before going back there. Your panicking will not help aid his recovery."

Hermione closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. "Please," she begged, slowly opening her eyes again, "I _have_ to see Draco."

"If Madam Pomfrey gives you any grief, tell her that I gave you permission to stay."

She nodded. It took all of her willpower to keep from running to the back of the hospital wing just to reach Draco that much sooner. When she arrived at the row of private rooms, she spotted Draco immediately; the door to his suite was slightly ajar. He lay slightly propped up in bed—far too pale and breathing shallowly—with his eyes open and focused on her where she lingered outside the room.

"Oh, Draco." Hermione ran into the room and flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and sobbing. "I was so afraid you'd died when Harry came in covered in blood and told me it was yours and I—" She broke off with a rather un-ladylike wail.

"Hermione," Draco groaned painfully. "Let go."

"Godric, I'm hurting you!" she cried, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. Her hands fluttered uncertainly over his torso. "I'm so sorry."

He closed his eyes slowly. "You didn't mean to," he whispered.

Hermione sank into the chair beside his bed and gripped his hand in hers. "Draco . . ."

He turned his head to the side and opened his eyes. His grey eyes searched hers, but he said nothing.

Summoning all of her courage, Hermione took a deep breath and murmured, "I've been miserable without you."

Draco's eyes widened a fraction. Still he remained silent.

She gulped nervously. "I—I know you probably don't feel the same way, but I just need you to know that it stopped being pretend for me a long time ago."

"It did?" he finally whispered.

Hermione nodded and turned her gaze to where her fingers were still entwined with his. "A _really_ long time ago. Draco, I think . . . I'm in love with you."

Her heart throbbed painfully when Draco extracted his hand from her grip. She was about to stand up and walk away, doomed to suffer from a properly broken heart, when his hand caressed her cheek. Her gaze snapped back to his.

"I was never pretending."

Hermione's heart seemed to stop. "Wh-what?"

"Salazar, Hermione. I've been in love with you since you slapped me in third year," Draco chuckled weakly. "And even before that I was always thinking about you. Ever since we first met."

"You . . . you love me?" she whispered almost inaudibly.

He nodded. "Now will you please get over here so I can snog you properly again?"

Hermione let out a bark of surprised laughter, but did as he requested. She placed one hand on his cheek and propped herself against the bed with the other before leaning in to kiss him for the first time in what had to be forever. Draco was still weak from whatever Harry had cursed him with, but Hermione could tell he was giving what he could. His right hand twined into her hair and he held her close until they absolutely had to break apart for air.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy," Hermione whispered when she had caught her breath.

"Good."

Draco gingerly slid over on the bed, then patted the empty space beside him. With a content smile, she curled up next to him, resting her head carefully on his shoulder. He cradled her to him as best he was able, and it was in this position that they both fell asleep.


	6. The Vanishing Cabinet

Chapter Six: The Vanishing Cabinet

* * *

Hermione barely left Draco's side for the next week except to go to classes. She even stopped by his classes (the ones she didn't share with him) to get his homework for him. They would then eat dinner and do their work in his private room in the hospital wing before eventually falling asleep in each other's arms. When Saturday rolled around, Madam Pomfrey finally declared that Draco was healthy enough to return to his regular routine.

"I think we should go to the library," Hermione said as Draco gathered his things that had become scattered around the room. "Now that you're better, we need to figure out how to repair that Vanishing Cabinet. We're running out of time."

"I know that," Draco muttered irritably. "The Dark Lord sent me a . . . gift. Yesterday afternoon." He pulled a small box from the pocket of his robes and shoved it into her hand.

Hermione examined the velvet box for a moment. It looked as though it was meant to house an engagement ring. Her feeling of foreboding worsened as she slowly pried the lid open.

And promptly dropped it back to the bed with a shriek of terror.

"Godric . . . is that—" She raised a shaky hand to her mouth. "Is that a _finger?_ "

Draco nodded solemnly and gingerly returned the box to his pocket. "I sent for Dumbledore immediately when I realized what it was. Obviously the ring with the Malfoy family crest is a dead giveaway as to whose finger it is."

Hermione swallowed convulsively. "Yeah . . . What did Dumbledore say?"

"He gave me a few leads on what to try with the cabinet." He took a few steps out the door. "But I can't handle the stress of doing that right now. Can we just—I dunno—go to the lake or something for a while?"

"Yeah, of course," she said, nodding. "Whatever you need."

Draco gave her a tiny smile and took her hand. Together they walked slowly through the castle and out onto the grounds. It was a warm day, with a small breeze that ruffled the leaves on the trees. The sun shone brightly, making Hermione squint. She and Draco settled in the shade beneath a willow tree that was somewhat secluded from the rest of the grounds.

Without a word, Draco pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. She practically melted into his arms. Hermione eagerly sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, and he deepened the kiss with equal fervor. Cautiously, she dragged her hands down his chest, slightly worried that he was still too weak for this.

Draco growled deep in his throat, but it was not a sound born from pain. The sound sent pleasant shivers down Hermione's spine, and encouraged her to unbutton his shirt and slip her hands inside. As she worked on the buttons of his shirt, Draco moved his mouth to Hermione's neck and began sucking at her pulse point. The feel of his wicked smirk against her skin told her that he liked the effect he was having on her. She wasn't about to deny that it felt good.

"Wait," Hermione gasped after a few more moments.

Draco pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. "Why?" he asked breathlessly.

"We need . . . privacy . . ." she panted.

He nodded, and with a wave of his wand, the drooping branches had closed in tightly around the tree. One more wave cast a Disillusionment Charm over their secluded spot.

For her part, Hermione was done waiting, and had been shucking her robes as Draco hid them from view. When he returned his attention to her, his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. Hermione, feeling a bit self-conscious, shook her head and pulled him in for another searing kiss.

Draco wrapped his arm around her waist and flipped them over, lithely sliding Hermione's discarded robe beneath them as a makeshift blanket. Hermione let out a little mewl of enjoyment at the feel of his weight on top of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, ready to give him everything she had to give.

And she did.

* * *

A little while later, Draco murmured, "That was unexpected."

Hermione hummed in reply. She wasn't sure if that was a positive or negative comment just yet.

"I love you, you know." He kissed her forehead softly.

"I know. I love you, too," she whispered.

"Why are you so quiet right now?"

She shrugged. "Was this too fast?" she asked uncertainly.

Draco sat up from where he'd been snuggling with Hermione. He took her face in his hands. "Just because it was unexpected doesn't mean it was unwelcome. Personally, I've been waiting _years_ for that to happen."

A small smile crept up Hermione's face. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "Don't regret it, please."

"Never." She leaned over and kissed him again. When they pulled away for air, a mischievous look entered her eyes. "Want to do it again?"

"Hell yes."

* * *

A few hours later, they were making their way up to the Room of Requirement. Draco held her hand tightly in his, and in his grip she could feel his apprehension. Hermione was worried about him, even now.

"So what hints did Dumbledore give you?" she finally asked.

He looked at her warily. "Er . . . he suggested . . . love."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Love? How so?"

Draco shrugged. "He thought maybe channeling it while casting a spell to fix the cabinet would work."

"What spell?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "That's where you come in, I suppose."

"I assume you've already tried _Reparo_. You're not an idiot, after all. Harry told me about this spell that Professor Slughorn did once to repair an entire house he'd destroyed in some misguided attempt at hiding himself. I wonder if that one would work," she mused.

"Should we go ask him?"

"I can go if you'd like," Hermione offered, "and I'll meet you back at the Room of Requirement."

Draco nodded. "Yeah, okay."

She smiled at his uncertainty. In a brief fit of nostalgia, she grabbed his tie and pulled him close for a lingering kiss. When they broke apart, she was pleased at the goofy smile plastered across his face. Satisfied that she had lifted his spirits, she spun on her heel and raced toward Professor Slughorn's office.

She knocked on the door and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for her professor to answer. After what felt like forever, the door swung open.

"Miss Granger?" Slughorn asked. "How can I help you?"

"Hello, Professor," Hermione said, trying not to sound in as big a rush as she really was. "I actually needed some help, and I was hoping you were available."

"Of course, m'dear. What do you need?"

"Harry told me about this spell you used last summer to repair that house where he first met you. Can you tell me what it is? I have a project I'm working on, and I wanted to try the spell."

"Yes, yes, I remember the charm well. I did use it rather often when I was on the run. It's _Instaurabo Maxima._ "

"Thank you so much, Professor," Hermione said emphatically.

"Not a problem, dear girl. I do hope your project ends well."

"Me too."

Professor Slughorn settled a curious gaze on her. "Do you mind me asking what your project is?"

Hermione fought the urge to fidget. "Oh, it's for Charms," she lied, hoping it sounded convincing. "I'm, er, seeing how damaged an item can become before advanced repairing spells no longer are effective." Yeah, that sounded good.

"I've not heard of any other students doing such an assignment," Slughorn observed.

"That's because it's a bit of an extra credit assignment." The longer she lied, the easier it became. To be fair, she was actually rather intrigued with the idea now that she'd come up with it. "I'm considering trying to invent even more advanced repairing spells, you see."

"That sounds very interesting," Slughorn said. "Do let me know how it turns out, will you? I may have a few ideas for you on constructing new spells."

"Absolutely! Thank you again."

With that, she rushed from the dungeons and practically sprinted to the seventh floor. The door to the Room of Requirement appeared for her without any trouble, which slightly surprised her. Harry was constantly complaining that he couldn't get in to see what Draco was up to. But Draco had probably just instructed the room to let her in when it recognized her presence. She strolled in with a mental reminder to the room to stay sealed against any other intruders.

"Draco?" Hermione called out as she walked farther into the room.

"Back here!" she heard from what must have been the farthest corner from where she currently stood.

She sighed and began the long trek to where Draco was waiting. He stood there, looking highly impatient for her arrival.

"Well?" he asked.

"I've got something we can try," she told him.

"Good. I'm ready for this to be over," Draco lamented.

"Slughorn said the incantation was _Instaurabo Maxima_ ," Hermione explained. "Harry told me he did the spell with Dumbledore, so maybe we should try doing it together."

He nodded. "Okay."

Before she took her stance, Hermione spent a few moments examining the Vanishing Cabinet. She vaguely remembered being told last year that Fred and George had shoved Graham Montague inside of it, and the Slytherin had been missing for weeks. That meant the cabinet had been broken before then, obviously.

"Any idea how long this thing's been broken?" she asked Draco.

He shook his head. "The one in Borgin and Burkes has been broken for nearly a hundred years, so who's to say this one hasn't been broken for just as long."

Hermione wracked her brain, trying to come up with any additional information she had on the cabinet, but finally drew a blank. "Well, let's try this."

Draco reached over and took her left hand in his. They lifted their wands together and pointed at the Vanishing Cabinet. With a brief look at each other, they both waved their wands and uttered the incantation. Hermione made sure to channel all of her emotion for Draco into the spell and hoped that he'd done the same. A white light burst from each of their wands and engulfed the cabinet, but then it slowly vanished, as if the cabinet had just swallowed the magic.

Draco's shoulders slumped. "That's exactly what's happened with every other spell I've tried," he muttered dejectedly.

And then something strange began to happen.

The Vanishing Cabinet started emitting a sickly green light. It began rocking back and forth as though it was going to crumble to dust. Instead of collapsing, however, it straightened until it was standing in pristine condition. The wood gleamed like it had just been carved and enchanted that day.

Hermione turned to Draco with an excited look on her face. "Did it work, do you think?"

He shook his head. "Only one way to find out."

He pulled an apple from the pocket of his robes, then opened the cabinet door and placed it inside. He shut the door, and after a brief flash of a blue-white light, opened it again. The apple was gone. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him and opened her mouth to object to his test, but he held a hand up to stop her. He shut the cabinet door once again, and the blue-white light lit up the interior of the cabinet. Hesitantly, Draco opened the door for a final time.

The apple sat on the floor of the cabinet. It had a huge bite taken out of one side.

"It worked!" Draco shouted. "I can't believe it worked!"

Hermione grinned widely. "I know!"

Draco wrapped her in his arms and spun them both around. "We did it!"

When he set her down, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He eagerly reciprocated. When they broke apart for air, he rested his forehead against hers.

"Feel like celebrating properly?" he asked, a slight growl to his voice.

Butterflies erupted in Hermione's stomach, and she nodded.

Without another word, he picked her up bridal-style and carried her over to a huge pile of cushions. She was pretty sure this time would be even better than the last.


	7. Preparations

Chapter Seven: Preparations

* * *

A few more weeks passed in relative silence. One evening in early June, while Hermione and Ron were studying in the Gryffindor common room, Harry burst into the room in a frenzy. He was panicked and clutching a note in his hand. Hermione lurched to her feet.

"What did Dumbledore want?" she demanded. "Harry, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he panted. Without another word, he dashed up the stairs to his dormitory.

Hermione waited in perplexed silence as Harry loudly rummaged around in his room, then descended the stairs again. He had his Invisibility Cloak draped over one arm and was holding a pair of socks in his other hand.

"I've got to be quick. Dumbledore thinks I'm getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen, he thinks he's found a Horcrux, and I'm going with him to get it." Harry took a deep breath. "So you see what this means? Dumbledore won't be here tonight, so Malfoy's going to have another clear shot at whatever he's up to."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest Draco's innocence, but before she could, Harry interrupted her.

" _No, listen to me!_ I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here—" He shoved the Marauder's Map into Hermione's hands. "—you've got to watch him and you've got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the DA, Hermione. Those contact Galleons still work, right? Dumbledore says he's put extra protection in the school, but if Snape's involved, he'll know what Dumbledore's protection is and how to avoid it. But he won't be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?"

"Harry—" Hermione tried again. She was well aware of what would be happening tonight, but she still wanted him to know of Draco's innocence.

"I haven't got time to argue!" Harry snapped. "Take this as well." He nearly threw the socks at Ron.

"Thanks?" Ron said in bemusement. "Er—why do I need socks?"

"You need what's wrapped in them. It's the Felix Felicis. Share it between yourselves and Ginny, too. Say goodbye to her for me. I'd better go, Dumbledore's waiting."

"No!" Hermione shouted. "We don't want it, you take it. Who knows what you'll be facing?"

"I'll be fine; I'll be with Dumbledore," Harry insisted. "I want to know you lot are okay."

Hermione frowned in concern.

"Don't look like that, Hermione. I'll see you later." And with that, he was gone.

Hermione paced back and forth for a moment before starting for the portrait hole herself. "I'll be right back. Call the DA while I'm gone."

Ron was left spluttering in her wake.

Once outside of her common room, she practically ran to the Room of Requirement. The door appeared almost instantly, and she rushed inside.

"Draco?" she shouted. "Draco, are you in here?"

He came running around a corner. "Hermione, are you all right?"

She shook her head. "Are _you?_ Harry seems to think the Death Eaters are coming tonight!"

Draco nodded solemnly. "They are. I got a notice from the Dark Lord this morning that I'm to let the Death Eaters in at eight. I was going to warn you."

Hermione shook her head. "Draco, I'm scared. What are you supposed to do after that? I know Snape's going to be the one to kill Dumbledore, but what will you do then?"

He pulled her into a hug. "Dumbledore has the plan all set," he whispered into her hair. "Snape will kill Dumbledore, then we'll make as if to escape with the other Death Eaters. They've all been told to Apparate to different locations to keep from being tracked. I'll go with Snape, and he'll return to the Dark Lord without me, claiming that we were ambushed and that I died in the attack."

She pulled back and looked in his mercurial eyes. "You're sure that will work?"

With a semi-unsure look on his face, he nodded. "Snape is going to take me to the safe house where my mother is staying. I'll be stuck there until the war ends, of course. I'm not looking forward to that much."

Hermione chuckled. "I can imagine." They stayed quiet for several moments, just wrapped in each other's arms. Finally she murmured, "Please be careful."

Draco gently pushed her back a step and kissed her fiercely. When they broke apart for air, he rested his forehead against hers. "I will if you will."

"Promise," she whispered.

"So the plan is to let the Death Eaters in through the Vanishing Cabinet, obviously," Draco eventually said, taking a step back from Hermione. "I've got a bunch of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, and I'll throw that out into the hallway before leading the Death Eaters out with the Hand of Glory."

"The Thief's Friend," Hermione said.

He nodded. "We'll basically be a human chain."

"Who's coming?"

He gulped. "The Carrows, Yaxley, Gibbon, and Rowle," he muttered. "I've heard rumors that Fenrir Greyback is meant to come, too."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Greyback is a Death Eater, too?"

"Unfortunately."

"Draco, he's really dangerous! What if he attacks someone?"

He frowned. "Well, it's not a full moon, so he can't turn anyone into a werewolf. That's not much consolation, I know."

"Could—could you maybe Stun him or something before the fighting starts?" She knew she was asking a lot.

"I don't know, Hermione. I wouldn't be able to do it directly, not without getting myself killed. I don't know if I'll even be left alone long enough to manage it."

"You're right; I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to do that. It was stupid."

"It wasn't stupid," Draco said softly. "You're worried about your friends. But you at least know about him being there. You'll be able to warn everyone else."

"Yeah," she acquiesced. "Maybe one of us can Stun him."

The clock in the bell tower suddenly struck seven. Draco's eyes widened and he began herding Hermione toward the door. "You've got to go. Warn everyone you can about what's happening, but don't tell them how you know about it. And be careful, please."

Hermione pulled Draco close and kissed him hard. He met her kiss eagerly, almost desperately. He pressed her up against the door, letting his hands wander down her arms and around her waist. She ran her hands through his hair, tugging lightly on the strands at the base of his scalp.

Draco eventually pulled away for a gasp of air. Pressing his lips against hers once more, he whispered, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," she replied. "I know it will be difficult, but please try to contact me when you get to the safe house. I need to know that you're all right."

He nodded. "I'll try. Now _go_."

With one last desperate glimpse, she left the Room of Requirement and hurried back to Gryffindor Tower.


	8. Run For Your Life

A/N: Hey everyone! I know it's been forever since my last update, and I'm so grateful to everyone that has continued to love this story in the interim. At first, I wasn't really sure where this chapter would take me. When I sat down to finish it, it kind of wrote itself. Hopefully you won't hate me at the end.

* * *

Chapter Eight: Run For Your Life

* * *

When Hermione entered the common room, Ron was pacing back and forth in agitation.

"Where have you _been_?" he shouted.

"Sorry! I had something to take care of." She walked over to him. "Did you message the DA?"

He nodded. "Everyone's going to meet us in the entrance hall."

"Let's go, then."

"Wait," Ron interrupted. "The Felix Felicis."

Right.

"Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"Her dorm," he answered. "She was looking for something."

"I'll go get her."

Hermione raced up the stairs to the girls' dorms and burst into Ginny's room. "Come on, Gin, we've got to go."

Ginny turned to her, her wand clutched tightly in her hand. "I can't find—" She broke off miserably.

"What is it?"

She shook her head, looking inexplicably lost. "I don't know. I feel like I've lost something, but I don't know what. Nothing makes sense, 'Mione."

Hermione pulled her into a hug. "I'll explain everything in a minute, but right now Ron needs us."

Ginny nodded and followed Hermione back to the common room.

While they had been running down the staircase, Ron had been fishing the Felix Felicis out of Harry's old pair of socks. With a look of disgust, Ron tossed the old socks into the fireplace. He pulled out his wand and muttered a cleaning charm at the bottle for good measure. Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at him. Of all the things to be a germophobe about . . .

"Ready, Ron?" Hermione asked.

He nodded. "You guys drink first. I'll take whatever's left."

Ginny frowned. "What is it?"

"Felix Felicis," Hermione explained. "Liquid luck. Harry wanted us to have it."

"Oh," Ginny whispered.

Hermione pursed her lips, examining her friend. Ginny still looked rattled. "You drink first, Ginny," she said after a moment.

With a forlorn shrug, Ginny took the vial and uncorked it. She took a tiny sip, then handed it over to Hermione. There was barely a third of the bottle left. Hermione took a deep breath and released it. They could do this. Draco would be fine. She put the bottle to her lips and tilted it back. A trickle of the potion barely touched her lips before she lowered it and handed the vial to Ron. Her friends needed it more than she did.

Ron swallowed the last of the potion. "How do you feel?" he asked.

Hermione looked at Ginny. Her friend's eyes had grown bright and determined. A fierce smile was upon her face. She was back.

"I feel like taking on the world," Ginny declared.

Hermione smiled. "We're going to kick arse," she agreed.

"I feel better than when I won the first Quidditch match of the season," Ron said. "Let's do this."

"Let's get to the entrance hall quickly," Hermione said. "Everyone is waiting."

The three friends scurried from the common room and practically sprinted to the entrance hall. A few of their friends were waiting there for them, along with several Order members. Neville and Luna stood shoulder to shoulder, and Hermione smirked knowingly at them. Seamus and Dean were there too, along with Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbott. What was most surprising, though, was how many Order members had shown up. Who had told them to be here?

Hermione looked around at Bill, Fleur, Tonks, Remus, and Hagrid in astonishment. A moment later, Professor Flitwick came running down the stairs. He stopped with a squeak when he saw the students there.

"Miss Granger?" he asked. "What are you all doing down here?"

"I was going to ask the same," Hermione replied.

"Dumbledore asked us to keep watch tonight," Bill said calmly.

"Harry asked _us_ to keep watch," Ron said, staring at his older brother.

Professor Flitwick shook his head. "It's not safe for you students to be involved. Go back to your dormitories at once."

"Professor, surely—"

"Not now, Mr. Thomas. You will all do as you are told."

"Come on, guys," Hermione said, feigning dejection.

Looking amongst themselves, the members of the DA trudged back up the grand staircase behind Hermione. When they were all out of sight and earshot, Hermione turned to them.

"We're obviously not going to listen," she whispered. "Harry said the Order would need help, so that's what we're going to do."

"Help with what?" Seamus asked nervously.

"He thinks something bad is going to happen here tonight," Hermione explained. "Obviously Dumbledore thinks so too, or else the Order wouldn't be here. We don't know exactly what we'll be facing, so if you don't want to be a part of this, now is your chance to leave."

If anything her friends' looks became even fiercer. She grinned happily at them.

"Harry wanted a few people to keep an eye on the Room of Requirement," Ron said after a moment. "He also wanted few people to watch out for Snape. Who wants to do what?"

Nobody made a move to step up.

Hermione sighed. "Luna and I will go to the dungeons to watch Snape. Ron, take Ginny and Neville and go watch the Room of Requirement. Seamus, Dean, sneak out to the grounds if you can and keep an eye on the front of the school. Ernie, Hannah, hang out around the Grand Staircase out of sight. Don't get caught, and stay safe, everyone."

Her friends nodded. Ron took off up the staircase with Ginny, Neville, Hannah, and Ernie. Hermione, Luna, Seamus, and Dean all snuck back down the stairs to peer into the entrance hall again. Everyone in the Order was walking toward the Great Hall.

When it was clear, Hermione whispered, "Now!" and everyone scurried past the adults.

"Good luck," Seamus whispered to them as they parted.

Hermione and Luna raced down to the dungeons as quietly as they could, then parked themselves across the hall from Snape's office door. But Hermione knew that Snape would have to get past them in order to help Draco. She couldn't let anyone stop him. After several minutes of deliberation, she cast a wordless _Muffliato_ and turned to Luna.

"I have to tell you something, but you must keep it between us," she said urgently.

Luna tilted her head to the side and looked at her speculatively. "What is it?"

"Snape isn't a bad guy," she started. "Not in the way Harry thinks, anyway."

"Oh, I know," Luna said in that ethereal way she had about her. "Is that all?"

Hermione grinned. "No, that's not all. Draco is in trouble, and Snape is going to help him. I know Harry wants us to stop Snape from leaving his office at all costs, but we can't do that."

Luna nodded sagely. "Of course not. Everyone's safety is important."

"Thank you for understanding, Luna," Hermione said. "I hate betraying Harry like this, but he just doesn't know the full story."

"I imagine that Draco is under some kind of duress, or else he wouldn't be in trouble, as you say."

"That's actually quite on the mark."

"I'm quite perceptive, you know."

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, I know."

"Well, what shall we do, then?"

"We wait until something happens, I guess."

* * *

A little over an hour passed by in absolute silence. Hermione would have been bored if she hadn't been so worried about Draco. Finally, she felt a burning sensation in her pocket. She pulled out her DA Galleon. _They're here,_ it said. She nodded. Moments later, they heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet running down the stairs. They ducked out of sight just before Professor Flitwick rushed into view. He knocked on Snape's door and entered before receiving an answer.

"Severus!" he squeaked anxiously. "Severus, we need your help immediately. Death Eaters have entered the school!"

"I'm coming, Filius," Snape's oily voice replied.

"Thank—" Professor Flitwick was cut off by a loud thump.

Snape strode out of his office and flicked his gaze at Hermione and Luna. "Professor Flitwick has fallen," he stated flatly. "Go in and help him, would you?"

Hermione nodded as Snape left the dungeons, only slightly surprised that he seemed to know they were there.

"He's probably been Stunned," she told Luna. "Can you handle things here?"

"Of course. I'll watch over him. Go help Draco," Luna replied.

" _Thank you._ "

Hermione rushed out of the dungeons. When she caught sight of Snape, she rapped herself on the head with her wand and Disillusioned herself. It was dark enough in the castle that she likely wouldn't be seen. She slipped up the Grand Staircase after her professor. Wherever he was going was where Draco would be.

As they made their way higher and higher into the castle, they encountered several skirmishes between members of the DA, masked Death Eaters, and Order members. Things didn't appear to be going well. She surreptitiously cast spells where she could to help her friends, but didn't slow her pace.

Snape suddenly made a left turn and headed for the Astronomy Tower. Hermione gulped and followed in his wake. When they reached the door, Hermione could practically see the magical barrier pulsing around the entrance. She glanced around and saw Neville lying on his side against the opposite wall. He had a nasty bump on his head, and was unconscious. She murmured a pain-relieving spell to help him right as Snape waved his wand to get through the magical barrier. Hermione rushed behind him, just barely making it through before the door sealed itself back up.

Snape crept up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower. Knowing he might hear her, Hermione waited at the bottom. It was too risky to be right behind him now. After all, he didn't know that _she_ knew what was really going on; she didn't particularly feel like being hexed—or worse.

"Now, Draco, quickly!" Hermione heard someone snarl.

Snape crept a few steps closer, and she finally dared to begin her own ascent.

"I'll do it," came the rasping voice of another.

Hermione swallowed thickly. How was she supposed to help Draco if Snape was in her way?

"I said no!" shouted the first voice. A bright flash of light and a loud thump accompanied his words.

Snape appeared to finally make a decision, and he prepared himself to join the group on the top of the tower.

"Draco, do it or stand aside so one of us—"

Snape burst in on them right as a third person spoke up.

Hermione dashed up the stairs as quietly as she could. She had to see what was going on.

"We've got a problem, Snape," said the first man.

Hermione was finally close enough to see everyone. She wordlessly cast _Homenum Revelio_ , and was surprised to feel relayed back that there were _seven_ other people there, though only six were visible. Harry must be there under his Invisibility Cloak, then.

And even though she knew it was inevitable, the sound of Dumbledore's next words chilled her to the bone.

"Severus," he whispered. "Severus, please . . ."

After the briefest of pauses, Snape lifted his wand and aimed it at Dumbledore's chest.

" _Avada Kedavra."_

Hermione's heart stopped. She hated that it had to be done. Even though she knew Dumbledore had asked it of him, she still hated Snape for doing it. But most of all, she was relieved that Draco hadn't been forced to kill Dumbledore himself.

"Out of here, quickly," Snape said, interrupting her reverie.

He grabbed Draco's collar and shoved him down the staircase, barely missing Hermione. She flattened herself against the wall as the rest of the Death Eaters followed. Just as she was about to follow them herself, a movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Harry had flung his Invisibility Cloak off and was heading for the stairs.

"Harry, no!" Hermione shouted.

He stopped and looked around wildly. "Hermione?"

She released her Disillusionment Charm. "Harry, you can't go after Snape."

He scowled at her. "Were you here just now? He _killed_ Dumbledore! I have to stop him and Malfoy!"

"Dumbledore _asked_ Snape to do it!" she shouted. "It was to save Draco!"

"I told you he was a Death Eater, Hermione!" Harry screamed in her face. "I told you, but you wouldn't listen! And now Dumbledore's dead! Are you happy? _Are you happy now?_ "

Hermione swallowed. "It wasn't Draco's fault," she whispered.

Harry sneered at her angrily. "I don't know you anymore." He shoved past her roughly and began taking the stairs two at a time.

With a heavy heart, Hermione muttered, " _Stupefy,_ " and Harry slumped to the ground, unconscious. "I'm sorry. I have to protect you from yourself."

She spun around, grabbed Harry's Invisibility Cloak from the ground, and threw it over herself before speeding down the stairs. She had to catch up with Draco. Somehow, she knew that Harry wouldn't forgive her for this, at least not anytime soon. Maybe she could escape to the safe house with Draco for now. But she had to find him first.

As she ran through the halls, keeping her eyes peeled for a familiar head of white-blonde hair, she wordlessly Stunned and Petrified as many Death Eaters as she could. Finally, at the landing of the third floor, she spotted Draco and Snape on their way down the staircase. The other Death Eaters that had been with them had spread out and were fighting with DA and Order members.

Hermione took the stairs three at a time, nearly twisting her ankles several times in order to catch up to Draco. Just as she did, Snape cried out, "It's over, time to go!" All the Death Eaters in the vicinity stopped what they were doing and charged after Snape. It was now more dangerous for Hermione to follow them than ever, yet she charged heedlessly after them.

When they reached the entrance hall, she was finally close enough to grab Draco's hand. Draco jerked his arm and looked around in confusion. She squeezed his hand tightly, hoping he'd understand that it was her. Still looking bewildered, Draco again took off running. Hermione clung to his hand and followed him out of the castle and onto the grounds. They were headed straight for the forbidden forest.

The other Death Eaters ran past and around them, all heading for the same place. After several minutes of running at full speed, everyone came to a halt in a small clearing. Hermione was completely out of breath and tried not to pant. She knew getting caught now would mean her death.

"That's it," Snape said silkily. "Everyone Apparate to your designated locations and meet back at Malfoy Manor in one hour. Do not disappoint the Dark Lord."

Without another word, the other Death Eaters disappeared with the usual _pop!_ of Apparition.

"Come, Draco. We must hurry if we are to get you to the safe house before I must return."

Draco squeezed Hermione's hand. Somehow she knew that he had recognized her presence, and he was telling her not to let go of his hand. She squeezed back.

Snape took ahold of Draco's left wrist and spun on the spot. Hermione closed her eyes as they Apparated. She may never get used to the pulling and twisting sensation it created. When she opened her eyes again, they were standing on a cliff overlooking a stormy sea.

But that wasn't where they stayed. Snape twisted again, and they Apparated once more. When the world stopped spinning around her, she saw that they were in a dark forest. The trees grew so thickly together that she couldn't see a single star in the sky overhead. Snape wordlessly lit his wand and began leading Draco down a narrow, twisting path.

Hermione clutched his hand for dear life and followed, trying still to keep as silent as possible. She didn't know what Snape would do if he figured out she was there. A few minutes later, they entered a minuscule clearing. In the center was a cabin made of the same logs as the surrounding trees. The cabin had been built to look as though it were a cluster of trees, so that if anyone were just walking by, they wouldn't see it was there. It was certainly cleverly built.

"Draco, your mother is waiting inside. And don't worry, it's not as small as it looks." Snape looked down at him. "And keep Miss Granger safe, will you?"

Hermione gasped. He'd known she was there all along?

"Merlin go with you," Draco whispered.

Snape nodded and strode out of sight. As soon as he was out of earshot, Hermione whipped the cloak over her head and draped it over her arm.

"Hermione, what the hell?" Draco demanded.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "When Snape went up to the Astronomy Tower, I followed him. I couldn't leave you, I just couldn't!" Tears were streaking down her face.

Draco gathered her up in his arms. "Merlin, I was so scared they would find you," he whispered into her hair.

She gulped in a couple of deep breaths. "Harry—he—" A sob tore out of her throat. "He was going to come after you, and I had no choice! I tried to stop him, and he turned on me. I think he hates me."

"Shhh, it's all right," Draco soothed her. "He doesn't know everything we do, not yet. He'll come around, but you have to give him some time."

Hermione nodded against his chest. "I hope so."

Several moments passed where they just stood there, holding each other.

"We should go in now," Draco finally said.

She nodded again, and he led the way to the carefully crafted door of the cabin. He knocked once, then went inside. Narcissa Malfoy was pacing in the surprisingly large sitting room. As soon as she saw Draco, she ran to him and engulfed him in a hug. Hermione took a step to the side, feeling slightly out of place. But just as soon as she'd thought it, Narcissa had released her son and was pulling Hermione into an equally tight hug. She held her arms akimbo, baffled at the woman's sudden show of affection.

"Thank you for saving my Draco," Narcissa said sincerely.

Hermione's eyes were wide when Narcissa pulled away. "I—"

Draco cleared his throat. "I wrote her a letter that the Order gave her when they rescued her."

"Oh."

"You two have suffered a terrible ordeal tonight," Narcissa continued. "Go upstairs and get some rest. We'll talk more in the morning."

Hermione could only nod her thanks. Her evening had gone from terrifying to surreal in mere moments. Draco took her hand once more and they climbed the stairs together. At the top of the staircase was a wide landing. Straight ahead was a large bathroom. On the right side was a bedroom with several bags just inside the door. Hermione assumed it was Narcissa's, and her suspicion was confirmed when Draco steered her into the bedroom on the left.

She stumbled to the bed and collapsed onto it, suddenly spent. Draco sat beside her and clasped his hands in front of him. They remained in a tense, awkward silence for a moment, until Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She sat up, turned to Draco, and practically threw herself at him.

When their lips met, everything around her seemed to melt away. Just then it didn't matter if her best friends hated her. It didn't matter if the world turned its back on her, or if she was doomed to spend the rest of her life hidden away in this safe house. So long as she was with Draco, she somehow knew that everything would be okay in the end.


	9. Study

A/N: Hey everyone! I just wanted to mention something before you read this chapter. I know that Draco has been a bit OOC in the last several chapters, but he's really going to remain that way. Personally, I see it as character development in some ways, but also that it's a side he only shares with Hermione. Hopefully you've all come on the journey in a similar way as I have and don't see it as so OOC for him anymore.

* * *

Chapter Nine: Study

* * *

It took approximately three days for Hermione to feel like she was going crazy. There had literally never been a point in her life where she'd simply sat on the sidelines and waited for a situation to be resolved. Staying holed up in this safe house might just kill her. She was pacing back and forth in the bedroom she shared with Draco for what must have been the millionth time that day alone when he finally interrupted her.

"Hermione, stop," Draco said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

She shook her head fiercely. "I can't just stay here, Draco," she said in frustration. "I know Harry and Ron probably hate me now, but I can still _help_ them! I have to help them!" She knew her voice was growing hysterical, but she didn't much care.

"What exactly do you think you can do?" he asked softly. "You know Potter and Weasley have probably told everyone you betrayed them by now. The whole of Hogwarts is probably out for our heads."

Hermione exhaled shakily and folded herself into his chest. Unbidden, tears began to fall. "I can't bear the thought of them hating me."

"I know," Draco murmured, stroking her hair. "I know."

"If I may," interrupted a quaint voice from the doorway.

Hermione and Draco both spun to see Narcissa standing there, looking quite awkward. Hermione hastily wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders. Even though they'd met on relatively amicable terms when they first arrived at the safe house, things had become strained. She was always on her guard around the older witch, uncertain of where they stood. This was especially so since Narcissa had taken to slyly belittling Hermione at every possible opportunity.

"What is it, Mother?" Draco asked, not unkindly.

"Well, in my contact with Dumbledore after my rescue," Narcissa said stiffly, "he happened to leave some books in my possession. He suggested you might find them interesting, Draco. Looking back, I wonder if perhaps he anticipated that _Miss Granger_ here would be joining us." Then, only slightly below her breath, she muttered, "Unfortunately."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked waspishly.

"I assumed you would know what his intentions were when you saw the books, Miss Granger," Narcissa said, barely concealing a sneer.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue. She hadn't meant to ask about Dumbledore's intentions, and Narcissa knew it.

"Thank you, Mother," Draco said before a fight could break out. "If you'll show me where those books are, I'd be happy to bring them to Hermione."

Hermione turned around and walked primly to the small desk in the corner of the room. She sat on the hard wooden chair, keeping her gaze averted. She didn't really want a fight to break out any more than Draco did, but she was so angered by the sideways comments Narcissa always spouted at her. Insults were cleverly woven into her seemingly kind statements. It was enough to make Hermione want to tear out her hair.

A few minutes went by, then she heard Draco walk back into the room and close the door. She turned to face him and was utterly shocked by the hefty stack of books he carried in his arms. She jumped up to help him cart the books to the desk.

"Dumbledore left all of these with your _mother?_ " Hermione asked in shock.

"It would appear that way," Draco said wryly.

Hermione examined the spines of the books now in her possession. _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ was among them, in its original language—the Elder Futhark runes. She almost relished the challenge of translating it. One book, a thick tome bound in flaking black leather, seemed to radiate Dark magic. _Secrets of the Darkest Art._ She shuddered, fairly certain of what information lay in those pages. Littered amongst the rest of the books were titles such as _Immortality: Conquering the Unconquerable_ , _Darke Magick and Its Pracktikal Applications,_ and oddly enough, _Translating Difficult Runes._

She fingered the spine of a particularly old-looking handwritten journal. "It all seems to be about Horcruxes."

Draco frowned. "Horcruxes?"

"It's how Voldemort came back," she explained lowly. "It's what Harry and Dumbledore were out looking for . . . that night."

"But what is it? I've read a lot of books in my father's study over the years, but I've never seen these before." He gestured at the pile.

"I don't know much about them, at least not yet," Hermione admitted. "I just know it's something that kept Voldemort from dying completely."

"I suppose we'll have to get reading then, won't we?" he asked. He grabbed a book and flopped onto the bed. After a moment, he patted the empty space beside him and said, "Join me over here."

Hermione smirked at him, but blindly grabbed a book from the stack and snuggled next to him on the bed. His free arm wrapped around her shoulders, and they sat up against the headboard, momentarily content to learn something new.

* * *

Hermione chucked the book she was reading across the room. Her action startled Draco, and he swiveled his head to stare at her.

"What the bloody hell, woman?"

"It's a horrid book," she snapped. "Wretched. I don't want to look at it anymore."

"Okay," Draco said placatingly, "so put it away. Don't throw it."

She harrumphed and crossed her arms. "Don't boss me around, Draco Malfoy."

He smirked at her and set his book down. "I'll do as I please," he murmured seductively, moving to cover her body with his. "Now lay down."

Hermione mock-glared at him. "Or what?"

He leaned in and nipped at her earlobe. "Or I'll tease. And I know how you hate that," he whispered.

She gulped and smacked his arm. "Bugger off."

Draco shook his head. "Nowhere to go."

Hermione's heart began to race at his proximity. She reached up and slipped her hands underneath the back of his shirt. As she lightly dragged her nails down his back, she slid down onto the bed, bringing him with her. Draco balanced his weight on his palms and stared down at her. His swirling silver eyes explored her face. Heat pooled in her gut at the tender yet hungry expression he bore.

She removed her hands from his back and fought a smirk at the grunt of unhappiness he uttered at the loss of contact. Slowly, Hermione ghosted her fingers up his arms, across his shoulders, and along his collarbone. Her smirk grew at the sight of the goosebumps she elicited along his bare flesh.

"Damn you," Draco muttered. " _I'm_ supposed to be the one teasing _you_."

Hermione trailed her fingers around to the back of Draco's neck and threaded them into his hair. His eyes closed and he inhaled sharply through his nose. She chuckled, loving the effect she was having on him. It made her feel . . . _sexy_ . . . being able to make him feel this way. It made her feel wanted in a way she'd never dared to dream of.

"All right already."

At that grunt of concession, Draco leaned down and melded his lips to hers. She tightened her hold on his neck when he lithely slipped his tongue into her mouth. He really was the _best_ kisser.

Suddenly, playing the submissive one in this situation didn't appeal to her. With a hard shove, she rolled them over until Draco was on his back and she straddled his hips. Hermione sat atop him and placed her hands on his chest, letting her hair fall in a curtain around their heads. She took her time taking in Draco's face—the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, the aristocratic set of his jaw. He growled in frustration at the lack of contact and dragged her by her neck down to kiss him once more. She smiled against his lips.

Draco's hands had just moved to pull her shirt over her head when a knock sounded on their door.

"Draco?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes?" he called out, his voice strained.

"Lunch is ready."

Suddenly grumpy again, Hermione climbed off of his lap.

"Wait, Hermione—" he started, grasping at her waist as she moved away.

"Go eat with your mother," she said resignedly. "Bring me back something, since it's obvious I'm not invited to dine with you."

Draco sighed. "You have to understand—"

"No, I don't have to understand," Hermione said, looking sharply at him. "I _do_ , but I don't have to. Your mother may have seemed welcoming at first, but she's clearly not comfortable sharing living quarters with me. I won't impose my presence on her any more than I already am."

She turned away from him before she could see the imploring look in his eyes. She didn't want to feel the guilt that went along with it. After a moment, she heard the door open and close quietly. She curled up on the bed and let the tears fall again. It seemed no matter where she went now, she was unwanted in some way. And for the moment, that was more than she could bear.

* * *

When Draco returned an hour later with a slightly burned piece of fried chicken for her, Hermione had already moved back to the desk and was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. She didn't even look up as he set the food in front of her.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" she mumbled, still distracted.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked.

"Writing to Luna," she said quietly. "I told her I was going to help you that night. She might listen to reason, or maybe be willing to talk to Harry. I have to try."

"I know you do," he responded just as softly. "But how are you going to get it to her? We don't have an owl here. And even if we did, it's not safe for us to send out communication."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm writing in code, first off," she said. "Luna was studying Ancient Runes too, so she'll be able to translate it. I'm also writing in a code _within_ the code to make it harder for anyone to understand should it be intercepted. Hopefully it'll look like a bunch of gibberish to anyone but Luna."

"Again, how will you get it to her?" Draco asked, sounding impatient.

She waved her hand dismissively. "I've got a couple ideas for that."

When she didn't elaborate after a moment, Draco asked, "What are they?"

"I thought perhaps I could send it through the Floo to the Ravenclaw common room," Hermione said. "Or I could send it with my Patronus. I'm leaning toward the second option, since she knows what my Patronus looks like. She'll know right away it's from me."

She finally looked up to see Draco nodding. "That's a rather good idea," he said. "The Patronus thing, I mean."

"Well, if you agree, then that's what I'll do," she said, smirking.

"What form _does_ your Patronus take?" he asked.

"An otter. Or it used to. I don't know if it still does or not." Hermione frowned. "I hope it still is."

"A Patronus can change forms?" Draco asked.

She nodded. "Since they're made from happiness and strong positive emotions, they can change if the person's emotions change dramatically."

"Give me an example."

"Love, for one," she explained. "Tonks, when she was in love with Lupin and before they got together, was heartbroken. That emotion caused her Patronus to change to that of a wolf, which mirrored Lupin's Patronus."

Draco leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her neck. "So, your Patronus may have changed since we got together, then," he breathed against her skin.

"Yes, it might have," she admitted breathlessly. "I haven't had cause to cast the spell in quite some time, so I don't know."

"I suppose we'll find out, won't we?" he asked, nipping at her earlobe.

Hermione turned in the chair and smiled at him. "And maybe after I send the letter, I can teach you to cast your own Patronus."

He smiled back. "I think I'd like that."

"But first I have to finish this letter."

Draco groaned. "Hurry it up, will you? I'm in desperate need over here."

Hermione laughed loudly. "You could always take care of yourself," she snarked.

With a playful snarl, Draco pulled her from the chair and wrapped her in his arms. "Why do that when I've the prettiest witch to do it for me?"

Hermione smacked his chest. "You'll wait patiently or get nothing."

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Yes, yes, all right."

She chuckled again. "You're so spoiled."

"It's why you love me," he quipped.

Shaking her head playfully, Hermione returned to her letter. After a few more flourishes of her quill, she waved her wand over it to dry the ink, then tapped the parchment to magically seal it. Once finished, she stood up from the desk, twirled her wand, and summoned her Patronus.

As she'd slightly feared, her Patronus had changed forms. Instead of an otter, what hovered between her and Draco was a dragon the size of Hagrid's boarhound.

Draco smirked arrogantly. "A dragon, huh?"

Hermione waved her hand at him impatiently. "Hush, you."

With a few more waves of her wand, Hermione Conjured a metal canister to put the letter in. She sealed it as well, then attached it to the silvery dragon's neck. Before sending it away, she whispered Luna's name to it. Hopefully her friend would hear her voice and recognize it right away.

Once the dragon was gone, Draco wrapped her in his arms once more. "So, a dragon."

"You knew it was a possibility," Hermione said.

"Yes, I did."

"Still in dire need over there?" she asked cheekily.

His expression turned thoughtful. "Actually, I was thinking I might like to learn that spell."

Hermione laughed at him. "I knew it!"

"Hush, you," Draco repeated. "You _want_ to teach it to me; I can practically hear you thinking."

She stepped away and pulled his wand from his trouser pocket. "You'll need this," she said as she handed it to him.

"Obviously."

Hermione snickered. "You sound like Snape when you say that."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't."

Draco scoffed. "I'm still taking it as one."

Hermione shook her head. "So, you already know the incantation is _Expecto Patronum,_ " she said. "But that's not really the hard part of it."

He straightened his back. "Go on."

"You have to think of your happiest memory or something that you're looking forward to greatly. The emotion has to be extremely strong, something that won't waver in the face of a dementor. Only then can it become corporeal."

Draco frowned thoughtfully for some time before saying, "Okay, got it."

Hermione nodded. "Now hold on to that thought with everything in you. Let it fill up every inch of your body with light, then say the incantation."

Draco closed his eyes tightly, his face a mask of concentration. " _Expecto Patronum._ "

Hermione watched happily as a wisp of silver erupted from the end of his wand. It swirled before them, attempting to solidify. When Draco opened his eyes again, the mist flared brighter, then fluttered away.

"I failed," he muttered.

Hermione shook her head, smiling brightly. "No, you were so close. It's more than I did the first time I tried."

His cocky smirk returned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she sighed knowingly. "You did better than I did at something."

He snickered. "Probably not the only thing."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want to take that chance?"

He pretended to think about it. "I'd rather make _you_ shut up."

* * *

Hermione spent the next few days engrossed in translating _The Tales of Beedle the Bard._ She relished the challenge, and especially enjoyed the random notes Dumbledore had scrawled in the margins. However, one particular notation confused her to no end. It was a symbol that kept popping up throughout the book, but it wasn't a rune. She was positive of that. The symbol was triangle that housed a circle. Drawn straight through the circle was a straight line. As simple as the drawing was, she couldn't make heads or tails of it. Neither could Draco.

Finally, she decided she'd include it in her next letter to Luna to see if maybe the odd witch knew what it was. Hopefully she would. Dumbledore wouldn't have included it in the book if it weren't important. Just as she'd made the determination to do this, a small wispy rabbit bounded through the open window. Hermione recognized it immediately and rushed to meet it in the middle of the room. The Patronus remained silent, but there was a familiar metal tube attached to its neck. Hermione had barely removed it before the rabbit dissolved into the air.

"Draco!" Hermione shouted. "Come here!"

He rushed into the room. "What's wrong?"

She smiled widely. "Nothing. Look, Luna wrote back!" She waved the metal tube in the air.

"What does the letter say?"

Hermione's smile faltered slightly. "Well, I haven't translated it yet."

Draco snorted. "Want some help?"

She shook her head. "It won't take long. You can go back to whatever you were doing before. I'll call you when I'm finished."

"No, it's okay. I was rather done spending time with Mother anyway. I think I'll read in here for a bit."

"Okay."

With that, Hermione sat at the desk, opened the metal tube, and extracted Luna's letter. She unsealed the parchment and unrolled it. Pulling out a spare piece of parchment and a quill, she set about translating the letter.

She was right; it took her a mere twenty minutes to decode. When she was finished, she grabbed the parchment she'd written the translation on and hopped onto the bed beside Draco. He looked up from the book he was reading, pretending disinterest.

"Ready to read it?" she asked eagerly.

"Haven't you already read it?" he replied drolly.

"Well yes, but not with you."

He smirked. "Hand it over, witch."

Hermione handed the parchment to him and read over his shoulder.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I was glad to hear from you. I've been worried ever since you vanished, and I'm happy you're safe and well. Your new Patronus is quite interesting. I assume it's related to Draco. Tell him hello for me._

 _Yes, Harry told everyone what happened that night. He's very angry right now, as I'm sure you're aware. I'm sure you also understand his rage and that it will cool eventually. Just give him time. You two have been friends for too long for him to let this ruin things between you._

 _As to your request—yes, I do think that would be quite an interesting use of my time. I wouldn't mind passing information to Harry and Ron in the slightest. I'm sure you're right that they will receive it better from me right now. In due time, I will tell them that I'm just the courier. However, if I have any insights, I do hope you'll let me contribute._

 _I look forward to your next letter. Sending it via Patronus was quite a stroke of genius—you really should have been in Ravenclaw._

 _Love,_

 _Luna_

 _P.S. Remember to keep the Wrackspurts away as you work. You wouldn't want any of your information to be compromised by them._

Draco snorted. "Wrackspurts?"

Hermione shook her head. "Luna believes in all sorts of things that don't exist."

"So what do these _Wrackspurts_ do, exactly?"

"I've no idea."

They sat there for another couple of minutes in silence. Hermione knew she ought to get back to work, probably send Luna another letter, but she was exhausted. The last few days had been hard on her, despite the fact that all she'd done was read and translate. Perhaps it was more of an emotional toll being taken on her. Whatever the case, she was content to snuggle with Draco for just a little while longer.

* * *

Hermione woke with a start to Draco's happy shout.

"What is it?" she asked in alarm.

Draco whirled to face her. "Look!" he exclaimed. He turned around again, then sighed. "Oh, it's gone."

"What's gone?"

"I cast my Patronus," he said dejectedly. "But it vanished."

Hermione sat up in bed, smiling. "Well, cast it again. I want to see!"

He turned to her once more, anticipation written on his face. " _Expecto Patronum!_ "

A silver-white raccoon erupted from the end of his wand and danced over to her on the bed. Hermione smiled and reached out to it. The raccoon nuzzled her hand, scampered to the end of the bed, and disappeared.

"Draco, that's great!"

"But why a raccoon?" he asked, appearing mystified.

Hermione thought for a moment. "I don't know a lot about raccoons, but from what I've read, they're really intelligent creatures. They also can symbolize resourcefulness, adaptability, and disguises."

Draco frowned. "That doesn't seem to match me at all, though."

"I don't know if that's entirely true," she replied thoughtfully. "You've adapted to your new reality quite well, despite everything. That fits. You _have_ always been resourceful, whether you've realized it or not. And personally, I think your true self was disguised behind your typical Slytherin mask. A raccoon suits you."

He nodded. "When you put it like that, yeah."

"They can also symbolize intelligence and courage," she added.

"That'd be your influence in it, then."

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, maybe." After a second, she asked. "What were you thinking of that made it corporeal?"

Draco flushed. "Erm, well . . . It's kind of embarrassing."

She shook her head. "Nope, no getting out of it. You have to tell me."

He scowled at her. "You tell me what you think of first."

She shrugged. "Easy. The first time we snogged."

"What? Why?"

"It was the day that changed my life for the better."

Draco walked over to the bed and sat beside her. "Honestly?"

She nodded. "It's not the happiest I've ever been, but it's a powerful memory."

"Mine's not really a memory," he admitted. "It's more like . . . something I hope for. You know, when the war is over."

"What?"

He gulped, then leaned over and kissed her, hard. Hermione made no move to stop him, instead choosing to let him work through his emotions in the way he knew best. He worked his hands into her curls and pulled gently, deepening the kiss with a new angle. After several moments, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers.

"You," he whispered when he'd caught his breath. "I hope for a future with you, one where we have a family together."

Hermione's heart fluttered. She hadn't spent too much time dwelling on what could happen in the future, since there was no guarantee that any of them would survive the war. But as Draco said the words, suddenly she could picture the future with him. It was glorious.

"I want that, too."


	10. Unexpected Revelations

A/N: Guys, I can't thank all of you enough for your help getting me through my writer's block! You all had such great ideas, and I'm eternally grateful for your words of encouragement. After your help, the chapter nearly wrote itself again. I love it when that happens. I hope you all like what came as a result of your ideas and praise.

I'm thinking I'll just have an epilogue after this chapter. It just seems to end in a good place, at least for me. Hopefully you all feel the same way.

* * *

Chapter Ten: Unexpected Revelations

* * *

 _Dear Luna,_

 _I am so grateful that you decided to help us with this project. Harry and Ron will need the help more than they realize._

 _Unfortunately for you, I already finished translating_ The Tales _. Sorry (but not really). There is, however, one symbol I can't figure out for the life of me. Dumbledore drew it everywhere in the book. I've enclosed a drawing of it; hopefully you'll recognize it._

 _Thanks again,_

 _Hermione_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I do, in fact, know that symbol. It's the sign of the Deathly Hallows. I'm sure you know the story the Three Brothers. Don't take it too literally. Death is not an actual person. However, the items described are. If this symbol is everywhere in the book, as you say, then it must mean there's something very important he was trying to tell you. Pay attention to it._

 _I look forward to our next correspondence._

 _Luna_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Luna,_

 _It certainly makes sense now why Dumbledore left me a copy of a book called_ Rare Magical Artifacts and Their Modern-Day Counterparts. _There must be something in there about the Hallows. I'll research it right away._

 _Have you had a chance to talk to the boys yet?_

 _Hermione_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Hermione,_

 _I approached them about it, yes. They denied knowing anything about a Horcrux or about You-Know-Who. I suspect they won't welcome me into the fold without some kind of proof that I know what I'm talking about._

 _If you have any ideas on how to get them to listen, I'm all ears (I just love that metaphor, don't you?)._

 _All the best,_

 _Luna_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Luna,_

 _The boys are incredibly stubborn at times. I apologize in advance for that. I really do hope they will listen to you now. I know for a fact that Harry went with Dumbledore to get a Horcrux on the night he died. I don't know what came of it, or even what the Horcrux was. I don't even know if they were successful in their attempt to retrieve it. If you could somehow get this information for me, I would be eternally grateful._

 _Now, as for getting them to listen to you. They will absolutely have to believe you if you have information about how to destroy the Horcruxes. I don't know if you're aware, but in your first year at Hogwarts, Harry destroyed a Horcrux. I figured out what it was while reading one of the books Dumbledore left me. When You-Know-Who was a student at Hogwarts, he killed a girl by opening the Chamber of Secrets and releasing the basilisk inside. When he had succeeded, he trapped a part of his soul inside a diary. That's basically what a Horcrux is: a way to stay alive even if your body dies. It's very Dark magic. Harry was able to destroy that Horcrux by stabbing it with a basilisk fang. That's the key, Luna. Basilisk venom will destroy Horcruxes. Harry must return to the Chamber of Secrets and retrieve some basilisk fangs. Alternatively, he might be able to use the sword of Gryffindor. That's what he used to kill the basilisk. Since the sword is goblin made, it takes in properties that make it stronger. Basilisk venom will have made it more powerful._

 _I truly hope this information will help you get the boys to listen._

 _All my best,_

 _Hermione_

⊱°.°.°⊰

 _Hermione,_

 _I talked to them, but they didn't believe me. Ron himself said I was having another of my "Looney" moments. I'm truly sorry, but I think I have failed in regards to this mission. I fear they will never listen to me. And as it is now time for the summer holidays to begin, I don't know what more I can do to convince them. I am truly sorry. If there is anything else I can do to help you, however, I will do so to the best of my abilities._

 _Regretfully,_

 _Luna_

 _P.S._ _ _I did overhear them talking about going to stay at Harry's place as soon as they got off the Hogwarts Express. I hope that information helps you in some way.__

⊱°.°.°⊰

Hermione had spent the last two weeks communicating back and forth with Luna while she was researching. And she was infuriated by her friend's last letter. How dare Harry and Ron treat Luna that way! In some ways, she thought maybe she should have known that they wouldn't listen to Luna. But she'd finally done enough research to understand what it was that Dumbledore had intended. And she was going to take care of the problem, with or without her boys.

She turned to the bed, where Draco was still asleep. She roughly shook his shoulder, and his eyes opened sleepily.

"Draco, we need to talk."

He rubbed his eyes as he sat up. "What's wrong?" His voice was tinged with alarm.

"Nothing's wrong, per se," Hermione replied. "But Harry and Ron aren't listening to Luna."

"Okay?" He patted the bed beside him, inviting her to join him.

She sat down, and he pulled her into his side. "Honestly, I'm fairly certain that they will fail at defeating Voldemort if I don't help them. Since they're refusing to accept help from Luna, and they won't welcome communication from me, I think I've got to do the work for them. I have to leave."

Draco pulled away from her in a panic. "You can't leave!" he nearly shouted. "It's not safe for you out there!"

"What else am I supposed to do, Draco?" Hermione exclaimed. "If I stay here, the boys will fail, the war will be lost, and we'll be stuck here forever. I can't let that happen."

He sighed heavily. "You're determined to leave, aren't you?"

She gulped. "I'm already packed."

He looked up at her, his eyes made of steel. "I'm coming with you, then."

Hermione sighed in relief. "I was really hoping you'd say that," she whispered.

"I don't know how we'll tell Mother, though," he said. "She'll never agree to it."

Hermione frowned. "I don't like sneaking around, but maybe you could just write her a letter?"

Draco nodded slowly. "Yeah, I suppose I could."

"I know it's not ideal—" She broke off as a simultaneous wave of nausea and dizziness overtook her.

"Hermione?"

She held up one hand to silence him, clapped the other over her mouth, and dashed from the room. Draco found her in the bathroom, kneeling on the tile and heaving into the toilet. Her entire body was shaking. She suddenly felt weak—weaker than she'd ever been before.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked quietly, shutting the door behind him.

Hermione shook her head. "That came out of nowhere," she gasped.

"Maybe we shouldn't leave just yet," he suggested. "If you're sick, it's not a great idea to be living on the run."

She nodded weakly. "I don't know where that even came from."

He shrugged. "Stress, probably."

"That would make sense," she said. "Except I've never gotten ill from stress before. And believe me, I've had a _lot_ of stress being friends with Harry and Ron—" Another wave of nausea overtook her, and she leaned back over the toilet once more.

"That's it," Draco said sternly. "We're not going anywhere."

"I might just be living here on the bathroom floor for a while," Hermione groaned when she'd finished heaving again.

"I'll go see if there's an Anti-Emetic Potion somewhere," he said. "There was a decent stock of medicine in the kitchen last I checked."

She nodded, resting her forehead against the cool porcelain of the toilet. She hardly paid attention as the bathroom door opened and closed again. She closed her eyes against the spinning of the room. Godric, she felt awful. It was so unexpected, too. She groaned again as her stomach churned. She _really_ didn't want to throw up a third time. A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened again, and then Draco was kneeling on the floor beside her.

"Found one," he murmured. "Come on, love, it'll be over soon."

Hermione slowly pushed herself upright, clasping her right hand over her mouth just in case. She opened her eyes to see Draco watching her with concern, a small vial extended toward her. She gulped convulsively, then took the potion from him. With a deep inhalation, she uncorked the vial and chugged its contents. The taste made her gag, and she nearly threw up all over herself and Draco. She braced her hands on the floor and took several deep, ragged breaths through her mouth.

"Better?" Draco asked.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. She continued to breathe deeply and felt her head begin to clear. When she opened her eyes and met Draco's gaze, her stomach had settled quite a bit. She sighed in relief.

"Better."

He nodded. "Let's get you back to bed," he said gently.

Without asking for permission, Draco picked her up bridal-style and carried her back to their bedroom. He carefully set her on the bed, then tucked the covers up around her, making sure she was comfortable. Hermione smiled wanly at him. He was so different from they boy she'd grown up knowing, and she loved him all the more for it. He was a changed man. With that happy thought, she drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Somehow, Hermione managed to sleep the entire day away. When she awoke, it was to a brand new day. Shocked, she sat up in bed, only to find that Draco wasn't in the room with her. Quietly, she climbed out of bed and padded out of the bedroom. She found Draco with his mother, having tea in the kitchen. He looked up as she approached.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

She nodded. "I think it was stress after all."

"So unfortunate, being ill," Narcissa murmured.

Hermione squinted in the older woman's direction, wondering what exactly that meant. She could never take Narcissa's words at face-value. Instead, she nodded and sat beside Draco at the table.

"Is there any chamomile tea?" she asked.

"I'll go check," Draco replied. Warily, he got up to go check the cupboards.

"So, Miss Granger," Narcissa said stiffly. "Draco has had some words with me, and he's convinced me that I've been in the wrong with how I've treated you over the last month or so."

Hermione's eyes popped wide. "Excuse me?" she squeaked.

"Yes," she sighed. "He seems to think that if my behavior continues, it will drive you away. And he's adamant that if _you_ leave, he leaves."

Hermione frowned in Draco's direction. "He said all that?"

Narcissa nodded. "And as my son means more to me than anything, I will do my best to remain civil from now on."

"O-okay," Hermione said cautiously. "I appreciate that. And I'll do the same."

Narcissa nodded once again, rather sharply. "That's that, then."

Draco returned to the table with a cup of tea and set it down in front of Hermione. "I really had meant for her to discuss it with you later," he whispered in her ear.

Hermione grinned at him. "It's all right."

"Would either of you like some breakfast?" Narcissa asked primly, standing up from her chair.

"I don't know if I should," Hermione hedged, still a bit traumatized from the day before.

"I can make you something bland, like toast," Draco offered.

She thought about it for a moment. "Okay. I'll try a piece."

He smiled at her. "Coming right up."

Hermione watched as mother and son moved around the kitchen. The way they worked in tandem was so natural, as if they'd done it before. It made her wonder if maybe they hadn't relied on house-elves for everything before going into hiding. As she sat there, something occurred to her. She jumped to her feet.

"Draco? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He looked slightly startled at her tone of voice, and set down the plate he was holding. "Sure."

She returned to their bedroom and waited. Once he'd closed the door behind them, she rounded on him.

"You talked your mother into being nicer to me so I wouldn't go hunting for Horcruxes, didn't you?" she demanded.

Draco closed his eyes, and the expression on his face was all the answer she needed. She was about to storm past him when his hand shot out to grab her elbow.

"It's true, I did," he said softly. "But for good reason."

She spun back around. "And what reason could you possibly have for locking me away like some cursed princess?"

He clearly fought a smirk at that remark, but his face returned to stoicism almost immediately. "You were asleep for over twenty-four hours, Hermione," he said lowly. "I was worried, so I cast a few diagnostic spells on you . . ."

Hermione shook her head in agitation. "And?"

Draco took a deep breath. He straightened his shoulders, looked her in the eye, and whispered, "You're pregnant."

Her jaw dropped. "Wh-what?"

He nodded. "I'm so sorry."

She placed a hand on her forehead and stumbled back toward the bed. "I don't . . . How can this be?" she asked as she sat heavily.

"I wasn't careful enough," he said, remorse dripping from his voice. "I must have forgotten the spell last time or something . . . I'm so sorry."

"Does your mother know?" Hermione gasped.

Draco shook his head. "I didn't tell her that much, no."

"What are we going to do?" she asked, fear bubbling up inside her. Or maybe that was renewed nausea. She couldn't tell.

"I won't lie," he said softly. "I've always wanted a family. But this isn't an ideal situation. So I'll go along with whatever you want."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I suppose there are an infinite number of reasons to terminate the pregnancy," she muttered. "But I was brought up to believe that it wasn't right, no matter the situation."

"So what will you do?" he asked warily.

She gulped and met his gaze. "We'll keep it."

She almost smiled when his shoulders slumped in visible relief at her words. Almost.

"I love you," Draco said vehemently. He knelt in front of her and gently placed his hand on her stomach. "And I already love whoever is brewing inside there."

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes, and she let them fall. A lump formed in her throat, preventing her from speaking, so she settled for running her fingers through Draco's hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his forehead on her stomach. The tenderness of his gesture made her tears flow faster. Godric, the pregnancy hormones were already wreaking havoc on her.

"I swear on my magic that I'll do everything I can to protect you and our baby," Draco whispered.

"We can do it, together," she whispered back.

He nodded. "Together."

Hermione pulled him to his feet. "So what happens now?" she asked as she stood up with him.

"There's no way in hell I'm letting you go on any kind of Horcrux hunt," Draco said firmly. "And I won't leave you, either."

"Okay . . ."

"Since Potty and Weaselbee won't listen to Luna, it's time you contact them," he continued. "You _make_ them listen to you, no matter what."

She nodded resolutely. "You're right. After all the research I've done, and all I will continue to do, I probably know more about Horcruxes than anyone besides Voldemort."

"And Dumbledore," Draco said with a sad smile. "Before he . . . Well, you know."

"Yeah."

"You'd better get to writing that letter, then."

Hermione frowned. "How am I supposed to encrypt the message without Luna to translate?"

Draco shrugged. "Maybe you could send it to Luna first?" he suggested.

"Well that won't work," she fumed. "School is over now. How would she even get it to them?"

"Good point."

After a few minutes, she got up and went to the desk in the corner. "I know what I have to do," she said.

"What's that?" he asked.

"I'm going to have to use the Floo network."

* * *

Her note to Harry was simple, without a signature. _Grimmauld Place kitchen, midnight. Bring Ron._ She could only hope her boys would be there. And that they'd give her a chance to explain everything.

Hermione spent the rest of the day pacing the cottage in agitation. She rehearsed in her mind the things she would say to Harry and Ron when she spoke to them. She revised her speech, too. Repeatedly. By the time 11:45 PM rolled around, she was a nervous wreck.

"Hermione, you have to calm down," Draco told her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

She sighed. "I know, but I can't. I'm terrified that they won't listen to me."

He pulled her into a hug. "I know," he murmured. "But you are strong and smart, and you'll figure out what to say to convince them. I believe in you."

She pulled back to look into his eyes. Those fathomless grey eyes that she loved more than life itself. She nodded once, took his face in her hands, and pulled him down for a kiss. It was simple, chaste, and yet held all the emotions raging in her chest at the same time. Draco was her everything now.

The clock chimed the hour.

Hermione took a deep breath, walked over to the fireplace, and tossed in a pinch of Floo powder. "Grimmauld Place," she whispered. And then she stuck her head into the flames.

It was warm, and it tickled her chin. She felt her hair blowing around her head like she was in a windstorm. She probably looked a fright, she knew, but it didn't matter. The only thing that did was that her boys understand what was happening. She waited there for only a few minutes before she heard quiet footsteps coming down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Who d'you reckon sent the note?" she heard Ron whisper.

"Dunno," Harry replied.

And then they came into view.

"Hermione!" Harry nearly shouted.

"Shh!" she warned. "Cast a Muffliato, quick."

Harry scowled at her but did as she requested. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I know you're mad—"

"No, I'm bloody _pissed!_ " he shouted. "How could you? I thought you were on my side!"

"I _am_ on your side," Hermione insisted. "And I really need you to listen to me. What I have to say is important."

"Why should we listen to you?" Ron snarled. "You're fraternizing with the enemy."

Tears filled her eyes, but she fought them back. Instead, she glared fiercely at her boys. She gave them the _look_ that meant they were being utter gits and that they had better shut up or she'd hex them. Almost on instinct, both of them snapped their mouths shut.

"Sit down," she instructed firmly.

Without a word, Harry and Ron sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. Hermione almost grinned with satisfaction. She had them so well trained.

"I really need you to listen to me without interrupting," she said, her voice pleading. "I know you have a lot of questions, and I know you're angry. But I swear to you that I have good reason for _everything_ that's happened. _Please._ "

"Fine," Harry said sullenly. "Talk."

She nodded. "You were right about some things, Harry," she started. "Draco _was_ a Death Eater at the beginning of the year. But it wasn't by choice. Voldemort threatened his family, and he was forced to take the Mark or watch them die. He chose to protect his mother. The same way I would protect you . . . the same way you would have protected me once."

She gulped as her tears returned. "You were also right that he was responsible for what happened to Katie. And for the poisoned mead. But he never meant for anyone else to get hurt. He was terrified of what would happen if he failed the mission Voldemort gave him. Like I said, he had no choice.

"I lied about when he changed his loyalties, but I didn't lie about the fact that he _did_ change them. Draco and I went to see Dumbledore together a few days after you guys confronted me in the entrance hall—"

"You're joking, right?" Ron interrupted.

She shook her head. "I _swear_ I'm not, Ron. I'll give you my memories if that's what it takes to get you to believe me."

He scowled at her but waved for her to continue.

"Dumbledore already knew about what was going on with Draco," she continued. "But he hadn't approached Draco because that would put him at risk. He hoped that Draco would come to him with my help, and he did. When we got there, Dumbledore had some awful things to tell us . . . Harry, he was dying already."

"His hand . . ." Harry murmured.

"Yes," she confirmed. "He wouldn't have lived much longer whether Snape killed him or not. What you _have_ to know is that Dumbledore _wanted_ Snape to do it. He asked him to so that Draco wouldn't become a killer. But Draco had to continue to do what Voldemort wanted him to so that suspicion wouldn't be thrown on him or his family. It was Dumbledore's idea to fake Narcissa Malfoy's death."

"Wait, she's not dead?" Ron asked incredulously.

"No, she's not. We're all in a safe house together right now," she replied.

"Go on," Harry said, frowning thoughtfully.

"That's when Draco changed his loyalties. I swear to you that he's on _our_ side. He's spent the last month helping me research Horcruxes for the two of you."

Ron's mouth dropped. "So when Luna kept coming to us, trying to give us hints . . . that was _you?_ "

"It was."

"Godric, I have to apologize to her," he mumbled.

"Yeah, I think you do," Hermione agreed.

"I get the feeling there's more to it," Harry inferred.

"There is," she said. "I'm fairly certain I know what the other Horcruxes are, but I can't confirm that until you answer a question for me."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"What Horcrux did you retrieve with Dumbledore that night?"

A scowl marred his face. "It was Salazar Slytherin's locket. But it was a fake."

"That _does_ help, though," Hermione said, almost excited. "That means I was right."

"So what are the other Horcruxes?" Ron asked.

"First off, you should know that Dumbledore left me dozens of books here at the safe house. He must have intended for me to do the research, and he knew I wouldn't be able to let Draco leave without me."

Harry frowned unhappily. "Okay."

"Several of the books were old handwritten journals from people Voldemort knew when he was younger. One of them said he had an obsession with artifacts that the Hogwarts Founders once owned. Slytherin had a locket, which you sort of found. Hufflepuff had a golden cup. You know Gryffindor had his sword. Ravenclaw's was a diadem. I believe Voldemort made Horcruxes out of all except Gryffindor's sword."

"He never would have been able to find the sword," Harry mused. "He didn't possess the qualities necessary to retrieve it."

"Exactly."

"Okay, but Dumbledore told Harry that Voldemort wanted to make seven Horcruxes," Ron said. "And that only adds up to . . . five, right? Including that ring of Dumbledore's and the diary from second year?"

Hermione nodded. "Right. But think about it for a moment. What else is precious to him, something he never lets out of his sight?"

"His snake," Harry whispered.

"You've got it."

"Still, that's only six," Ron said.

"I know," she said quietly. "And I'll keep researching until I figure out what the seventh one is. But for now, you know what things to look for. Do some investigating of your own on that locket. Maybe talk to Snape. I know you'll be able to figure it out."

"Do you know anyone who has the initials R.A.B.?" Harry asked suddenly.

Hermione frowned. "It sounds awfully familiar."

"I do," she heard Draco say from behind her.

"One moment," she told Harry and Ron. She turned her head to look at Draco. "Who is it?"

"Regulus Arcturus Black," Draco whispered. "Brother to Sirius Black, and my cousin."

Her eyes widened, and she spun back around to face her friends. "Sirius's brother," she said breathlessly.

Harry frowned, but after a few moments his eyes brightened and he looked between Ron and Hermione. "I remember seeing the locket here!" he said excitedly. "Do you remember when Ron's mum had us cleaning out Grimmauld Place two summers ago?"

"Yeah," Hermione replied.

"There was this locket that was in a glass case," he continued. "I remember trying to open it, but it was stuck. And it positively _reeked_ of Dark magic . . ." He trailed off, his excitement immediately evaporating. "But we threw it out."

"But what about Kreacher?" Ron asked. "Didn't he used to nick stuff from us all the time?"

"It's worth a shot," Hermione said. "Ask him if he has it. And if he does, maybe you could offer him the fake one as a replacement?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"There's one more thing," Hermione said. "It's sort of strange, really."

"What?" Ron asked.

"Dumbledore left me a really old copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. He had left a lot of handwritten notes inside it as well, particularly in one story. The Three Brothers."

"I don't know that story," Harry said, frowning.

"Ron can tell it to you," Hermione said. "I think we should finish up talking soon. Who knows whether the Floo network is being watched right now. It's not safe for much longer."

Ron nodded. "I'll tell him the story, 'Mione."

She smiled at him. "Thank you."

"Okay, so what about the story, then?" Harry asked.

"The story talks about three magical items. The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Cloak of Invisibility. From what I gather, Dumbledore found out that they're real. And Voldemort wants them. You have to get to them first, Harry."

"Invisibility Cloak?" he muttered. "Whatever happened to mine?"

"Oh, right!" Hermione said. She turned her head to Draco again. "Draco, the cloak!"

He handed the silvery cloak to her, and she thrust it through the fireplace to her friends. Harry took it from her with a slight frown.

"Why did you have it?"

"Never mind that now," she said impatiently. "Harry, that might be the cloak from the story!"

"Now that you mention it," Ron said slowly, "I remember my brothers wanting to create their own Invisibility Cloaks to sell at their shop. Fred was complaining that the charm kept wearing off."

"Right," Hermione said. "Most Invisibility Cloaks only last for one or two uses. But Harry's . . . we know that's lasted for _decades_ , if not longer."

"That's unusual, then," Harry concluded.

" _Yes_."

"It makes sense," Ron said.

"Listen," Hermione said quickly. "I have to go, but I'll keep researching for you. In the meantime, you have to figure out where the rest of those Horcruxes are. Do whatever it takes to get them. Basilisk venom or Gryffindor's sword will destroy them for certain."

"Are you going to come with us?" Harry asked softly. "We need you."

Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time they fell unchecked. "I truly wish I could, Harry," she whispered. "But it's not safe for me out there."

He furrowed his brow. "It's not safe for _anyone_ right now. What's so different for you?"

She gulped. She couldn't tell them she was pregnant. Not yet. Not when they'd just barely forgiven her for running off. She took a deep, fortifying breath.

"I can't tell you right now," she finally said. "But I will soon, I promise. We're just out of time to talk. I'll send you a note when I can."

Harry and Ron both nodded at her, their faces serious.

"Be careful," Harry said. "And I'm sorry."

"Me too," Hermione said. "You guys are my best friends, and I love you."

"Love you too, 'Mione," Ron murmured.

"Stay safe," she admonished them. "Do what you have to in order to destroy the Horcruxes, but try not to be _too_ reckless."

Harry smirked. "No promises."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll send you a note soon, I promise."

"Bye."

Hermione pulled her head out of the fireplace, a self-satisfied grin on her face.

"I take it they listened to you?" Draco asked.

She rolled her eyes again. "You heard the entire conversation, you dolt."

He laughed. "Yeah, I did."

"Thank Merlin they listened, too."

Draco nodded and helped her to her feet. "I knew they'd forgive you."

Hermione hugged him tightly. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything."

"Anything for you, love."


	11. Backyard Duels

A/N: Hey guys! Because you guys helped me get past my writer's block earlier, I was able to finish up the story pretty quickly. It's this chapter, and then a short epilogue. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Backyard Duels

* * *

 _Two months later  
_ _  
_

"We're so close, 'Mione."

"What's left?" she asked Harry.

"Just the snake."

"How do you plan on getting it away from Voldemort?"

Harry shook his head where it floated in the fireplace. "I think we'll have to take care of it when we confront him."

"Just be careful," Hermione said.

"How are you feeling, then?" her friend asked, not-so-subtly changing the subject.

Hermione smiled at him and gently placed her hand on her slight baby bump. Both of her friends had been immensely supportive once she told them she was pregnant. "The morning sickness is finally gone, so that's good. It's still a bit strange to think there's a little person in here."

"It's weird that I'm going to be an uncle," Harry chuckled. "Tonks is pregnant, too."

"She is?" Hermione gasped. "That's wonderful news!"

He laughed again. "Remus wanted to follow me and Ron. He was _so_ panicked that he might've passed on lycanthropy to the baby."

She snorted. "Even he's not dumb enough to think that actually happens."

"Yeah, we talked him down. And then he asked me to be the baby's godfather."

"Good," she said, grinning.

"How's Malfoy handling things?" Harry asked. He was trying so hard to be supportive of their relationship now, and Hermione loved him all the more for it.

"Surprisingly well," she said softly. "He's incredibly attentive. He just might love this baby more than I do."

"I doubt that," Harry teased. "Nobody loves _anything_ more than Hermione Granger."

"Maybe." After a moment, she frowned and said, "Harry, there's something I have to tell you. You're not going to like it."

"Back to Voldemort, are we?" he asked grimly.

"Unfortunately."

"What's the latest research say, then?"

"After carefully reading through all the books Dumbledore left me, I found a small note in one of them. It had your name on it, next to the number seven. Harry, I think . . ." Hermione swallowed back a sob.

"What?" he asked.

She sighed. "The night Voldemort killed your parents, he didn't know he was going to lose his corporeal form. I think that the last bit of his soul latched itself onto the only living thing left in the room. And from what I gather, Dumbledore thought the same thing."

Harry's mouth hung open. "So . . . _I'm_ a Horcrux?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione nodded, her tears finally escaping. "I don't know how to get around this one," she cried.

She could almost see her friend straighten his shoulders. "There is no way around it," he said quietly. "After we kill the snake, I'll have to let Voldemort kill me. Ron will have to finish the job, I guess."

"I don't want you to die," she whispered.

"I don't particularly like the idea either," he replied. "But if there's no other way . . ."

Hermione wiped her cheeks. "Speaking of, though . . . you and Ron got the Elder Wand okay?"

He nodded again. "It was with Dumbledore in his tomb. But I can tell I'm not its master. I have to be in order for it to work."

"Well, wand lore says that the person who defeats the wand's previous owner is the new master of the wand. Defeat doesn't mean death, Harry."

"Well, Malfoy Disarmed him that night," he said slowly. "Maybe he's the owner?"

Hermione's eyes widened. " _Yes_ ," she whispered. "It makes perfect sense. Harry, wait right there."

He chuckled. "I'm not going anywhere."

Hermione left the living room as quickly as she could to go find Draco. He was at the kitchen table, reading a book. She sat next to him, and he looked up.

"Are you okay?" he asked immediately.

She fought a smile. That was almost always his first question these days. "Yes, I'm fine. But I do have a question for you."

"What's up?"

"Harry said you Disarmed Dumbledore that night on the Astronomy Tower?"

Draco nodded slowly.

"Well, that act probably made you the new master of his wand . . . which just so happens to be the Elder Wand, as you know. And Harry needs to be its master in order to defeat Voldemort."

"So, what," he said, "I have to die so Potter can have the wand?"

Hermione shook her head. "Of course not. You could likely just have Harry Disarm _you_ , and it'd be his."

"So have him come over and we'll duel," he suggested amiably.

She gaped at him. "You're sure?"

"I mean, we all want Voldemort dead, so yeah. Anything that helps Potter do that is fine by me."

"Okay. I'll go ask Harry if he can come over now."

"I'll be here."

Hermione quickly returned to the living room, where Harry's head was still floating in the fireplace.

"Harry?"

He looked up at her. "Yeah?"

"Draco said you should come over. The two of you can duel, and you'll just have to defeat him in order to get the Elder Wand."

Harry nodded. "Guess I'll bring the accursed thing with me," he sighed.

"See you in a minute."

With that, Harry withdrew his head from the fireplace. A few seconds later, the fire roared a neon green, and her friend stepped into the living room. Hermione immediately ran over and threw her arms around him.

"Godric, I've missed you," she said.

"Missed you too, 'Mione," he chuckled.

"Shall we get this over with?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Draco's in the kitchen."

"Lead the way."

Hermione led her best friend out of the living room and into the kitchen, where Draco was still nonchalantly sitting at the table. He had acquired a cup of tea since she spoke with him last, and sat there sipping regally from the cup as he pretended to read his book. She bit back a laugh at his performance.

"Draco," she said to get his attention—even though she knew he was aware of their presence.

He made a show of "finishing" a paragraph, marking his page, and putting the book down before looking up. "Hello, love."

Hermione barely resisted shaking her head at him. He was doing his damnedest to get a rise out of Harry. Same old Draco.

"Malfoy," Harry said coolly.

"Potter," Draco responded.

"Boys, don't be idiots," Hermione said before things could get out of hand. "You've got an important job to do, so do it. This isn't about which one of you is the better dueler or who has more claim on me."

Harry looked at her with mild outrage. "'Mione! I'm not trying to _lay claim_ to you or whatever!"

She snorted. "Okay."

"Let's get this over with, then," Draco said, sounding sullen.

This time she did shake her head at them. Boys.

"Come on. We'll go in the backyard." Hermione didn't wait for them to follow her. She just made her way out the door in the kitchen. The boys would come, she knew.

Sure enough, they emerged outside a few seconds after she did. Harry gruffly extended the Elder Wand for Draco to take, and Draco gingerly removed it from his grasp. Draco was extremely wary of the powerful wand, as he should be, Hermione believed. It was a dangerous weapon, akin to a Muggle firearm, really. If he wasn't careful, he could easily kill Harry with it.

Before they started to duel, Draco stuck out his hand. "Good luck, Potter," he murmured.

Harry reluctantly shook his hand. "And to you."

No more small talk was needed. Both boys lowered into the classic dueling stance. Hermione knew Draco was very skilled at wordless magic, and she briefly wondered if he'd use it. He didn't, though.

" _Rictusempra!_ " Draco shouted.

At the same time, Harry yelled, " _Petrificus Totalus!_ " and rolled out of the way of Draco's spell.

Draco sidestepped Harry's spell. " _Depulso!_ "

" _Protego!_ "

" _Incendio!_ "

" _Expulso!_ "

That spell landed, and Draco was blasted off his feet. Hermione fought the urge to run to his side. He could handle this. He scrambled to his feet, holding the Elder Wand in defensive position once again.

" _Bombarda!_ " Draco yelled.

" _Protego! Alarte Ascendare!_ "

Draco rolled out of the way of Harry's latest spell. It seemed he was tiring quickly; he was a bit out of practice. Suddenly, a jet of white light burst from the end of his wand. He had resorted to wordless magic after all. Hermione bit down on her thumbnail, but she needn't have worried. Harry was quick on his feet in a duel, and was decent at wordless magic himself. Soon, the spells were flying faster than ever. Both boys were giving their all to the duel, but still avoiding any spells that could be potentially deadly.

Nearly forty minutes later, both boys were drenched in sweat and exhausted. Hermione could see Draco's strength flagging, and she knew Harry had to act now or risk his ownership of the Elder Wand. Apparently Harry had figured that out as well, for he shot a last spell at Draco, and the Elder Wand flew from his hand and into Harry's. Draco dropped to his knees, utterly spent.

Harry, too, was obviously knackered, and he folded himself into a sitting position in the grass. He held the Elder Wand tightly in his left hand, as if fusing himself to it. Hermione would have worried about the power going to his head if she hadn't known him like she did.

"Come on boys, let's go back inside," she murmured.

Without a word, both Harry and Draco got to their feet and followed her. They all slumped into chairs at the kitchen table. After a few awkward minutes, Hermione got up and made some lemonade. She Levitated it to the table, along with three tall glasses, and poured each of them a drink. Both boys guzzled theirs gratefully. The duel had really worn them out. But even with Harry's "victory," Hermione couldn't fight the sense of impending doom that was invading her mind.

"What happens now?" she asked Harry.

He frowned. "You know what happens, 'Mione."

Tears filled her eyes. "Isn't there another way?"

Harry shook his head. "You said yourself that I'm a Horcrux. Voldemort can't be defeated until all the Horcruxes are gone."

She let the tears fall. "I don't want to lose you."

He got out of his chair and came to hug her. "You'll never lose me," he whispered. "You know that."

She nodded into his shoulder. "What am I supposed to do?"

He took a step back and gave her a stern glare that rivaled her own. "You're to stay here with Malfoy and take care of that baby. No fighting. None."

Hermione almost smiled at how fiercely protective he was being. But under the circumstances, she couldn't bring herself to feel anything resembling joy. It didn't seem fair.

"It's time for me to go," Harry said quietly. He turned to Draco. "Take care of her. Promise me."

Draco's arrogant facade dropped. He met Harry's gaze evenly and said, "With my life. I promise, Potter."

Harry gave Hermione one last hug, then turned and left the kitchen. A moment later, Hermione heard the loud _whoosh_ that meant he'd taken the Floo. He was gone.

* * *

The next two months crept by agonizingly slowly for Hermione. She waited on pins and needles for Harry to send word that he was leaving for the final confrontation with Voldemort. When his Patronus finally came with the news, she spent the rest of the day curled up on her bed, crying. Draco sat with her, even though he clearly knew there was nothing he could do to help her feel better. She appreciated his presence, if nothing else.

Hours passed in helpless, hopeless silence. Hermione refused to eat or drink anything, even though she knew it wasn't good for the baby. She just couldn't bring herself to get out of bed. At any time that day, her best friend could be killed, and she'd never see him again. The thought was more than she could bear.

It was nearly midnight before anyone reached out to her. A silver Jack Russell Terrier glided into the room through the open window. Hermione sat up as soon as she recognized Ron's Patronus. Then it opened its mouth, and Ron's jubilant voice rang out.

" _He did it, 'Mione! Somehow—I don't really understand it—Harry didn't die! Voldemort hit him with the Killing Curse, and he said he sort of felt like he died, but then he came back! Now Voldemort's gone for good! The war's over!_ "

Hermione jumped from the bed, elated beyond words. She looked at Draco, her eyes wide with joy. He grinned back at her and climbed out of the bed, too. He wrapped her in his arms and spun her around. She laughed happily as the world blurred. When Draco put her back on her feet again, he kissed her soundly. She certainly felt like celebrating the good news, and Godric knew her libido had been nearly insatiable for the last month. Pregnancy was a weird and wonderful thing.

* * *

A week later, Harry and Ron came to visit them at the safe house. Hermione hugged Harry for what may have been ten minutes . . . at least until Draco started scowling. Then she let him go and smacked her boyfriend on the arm. That evening, they celebrated properly, with tons of food and fun. For once, her boys didn't seem to mind Draco being around, and she was delighted that they were at least pretending to get along. Hermione knew it would be hard for them to let go of old prejudices and petty rivalries, but she also knew they would try—for her.

"Are you going to go home?" Ron asked her after they'd finished eating the grand meal his mother had sent with them.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. My parents don't exactly know I'm pregnant, after all." She rested both hands on her baby bump. "They don't even know about Draco."

Draco, who was sitting beside her, settled his arm over her shoulders protectively. "It's okay. We'll tell them when you're ready."

"Why not just come to the Burrow?" Ron asked.

Hermione's eyes widened in feigned horror. "And spend the rest of my pregnancy around your crazy brothers?"

Ron's face fell at her statement, and her heart instantly dropped to her toes. She'd nearly forgotten about Percy. The final battle at Hogwarts hadn't started out very well, and Percy had been killed by an Acromantula. Even though the Weasleys hadn't been speaking with him for quite some time, Percy did come to his senses in time to help at the battle. His family wasn't taking it well, the fact that he'd come to his senses only to lose his life.

"Ron, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have said that."

He shook his head. "It's not like we were close or anything," he mumbled. "But he was family, yeah?"

Strangely enough, Draco nodded his agreement. "I know what you mean, Weasley," he said quietly. "I haven't been close with my father for years, but hearing about his death hurt a part of me I didn't realize was still there."

"Exactly."

Hermione bit her lip. "When's the funeral service?"

Ron swallowed. "Tomorrow."

She looked at Draco, and he nodded slightly. "We'll be there," she said.

Her friend looked at her with something like relief on his face. "Thanks 'Mione."

"So, Potter," Draco said in an attempt to lighten the mood. "What are you going to do now that your role of savior is done?"

Harry mock glared at Draco. "I'm thinking Quidditch," he said with a smirk.

Draco nodded. "Same."

"Guess I'll get to keep kicking your arse, then."

"Don't be too sure, Potter. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

Hermione snorted. "That's a rivalry you two will never get past, isn't it?"

"Never." Harry shook his head.

"Not in this lifetime," Draco agreed.

"What about you, Ron?" she asked. "What do you want to do now?"

He shrugged. "I'm going to spend some time helping get Hogwarts back to normal. The students were all sent home this last week because the damage was too extensive. Everyone'll be invited back to restart the school year next September."

"That sounds nice," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I wish I could help with that."

"Actually," he said, "you might be able to help with the library. It took a lot of damage, unfortunately."

Her eyes widened and she turned to Draco. "Would that be okay?" she asked.

"I don't see why not so long as you don't overdo it." He placed a hand on her stomach. "Wouldn't want to stress the little one out, right?"

She nodded. But then something occurred to her. "Wait . . . if everyone's being invited back next September, that means I could finish seventh year."

"But 'Mione, you'll have a baby by then," Harry interjected. "What are you going to do, bring it to classes with you?"

"Right." She frowned unhappily. "I don't like the idea of not finishing school, though. How will I get a job without a complete education?"

"Why not study independently for your NEWTs?" Draco suggested. "You and I could do that and then take the tests with everyone else."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that could work."

"Hey, don't be too down about it," Ron said. "You're going to love being a mother, I'm sure of it. After all, you've been looking after me and Harry for the last six years."

She laughed loudly. "You're right, I have!"

Draco chuckled too. "Don't forget that you've been taking pretty good care of me this year, too."

She looked at him. "You've taken better care of me," she said softly.

He leaned in as if to give her a kiss before they were interrupted by a, "Get a room! Nobody wants to see that!" from Harry.

Just to spite her friend, Hermione closed the gap between her and Draco and kissed him soundly for several minutes. She chuckled at the disgusted groans from Harry and Ron, which prompted Draco to slide closer and deepen the kiss. When Ron started making retching sounds, she finally pulled away.

"I'll do as I please," she pretended to scold. "I get to do what I want now."

"As if you didn't before," Draco teased.

She nudged him with her shoulder. "You're supposed to be on my side, here."

"I'm always on your side," he murmured in her ear.

Hermione shivered at the feel of his breath on her neck. Her pulse sped up and her own breathing quickened. She suddenly stood up from the table.

"It's time for you guys to go," she said hurriedly. "I—I . . ."

Harry snorted. "We don't want to know, 'Mione."

She gulped. "See you tomorrow, then."

With that, she grabbed Draco's hand and hauled him up the stairs to their bedroom. The boys could see themselves out. Right now she had some rather urgent business to attend to. The kind that only Draco could assist with.

Once the door was shut behind them, Draco pressed her up against it. "It does all kinds of things to me knowing that you need me like this," he whispered.

"Shut up," she demanded before melding their lips together.


	12. Epilogue

A/N: And here's the epilogue! Thank you all for going on this journey with me! It's been such fun!

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

 _One year later_

Hermione smiled fondly at Draco, where he sat across the room from her. In his arms, he held their beautiful daughter, who they'd affectionately named Carina Rose (Carina to honor the Black family tradition of naming their children after constellations and stars, and Rose because Hermione had always loved the name). Their daughter had a head full of blonde curls and enchanting grey eyes, just like her father's. Hermione didn't think she could love two people more than she loved her little family.

She and Draco had stayed in the safe house for the remainder of her pregnancy. It was just easier to be out of the public eye for a while longer. Fortunately, Narcissa had warmed up considerably after she heard about the baby, and tension in the house eased immensely. When Hermione was eight months along, she finally sent a letter to her parents detailing the last year of her life. They were understandably hurt that she hadn't told them sooner, but they were also overjoyed about being grandparents. They even insisted on meeting Narcissa—which was a tense affair, to say the least. Still, Hermione's life had fallen into place, more than she'd ever dreamed it would.

But now that the baby was here and the war was over, they had left the safe house behind—permanently, she hoped. Draco had purchased them a small cottage overlooking the ocean. It was perfect, really. Hermione couldn't have been happier. She spent her days loving and nurturing Carina while Draco was off at Quidditch practice with the Appleby Arrows (he was Seeker, of course). At night, she and Draco would study for their NEWTs after Carina was asleep. For the time being, it was perfect for her.

Harry had joined the Kenmare Kestrels as their Seeker, and often played against Draco. It made Hermione laugh to see them still such bitter rivals on the Quidditch pitch. Fortunately for her sanity, Draco won a good amount of the matches they played against each other, so he didn't come home complaining all the time that "Potter cheated," or "Potter got lucky this time."

Ron was preparing to return to Hogwarts in a few months, oddly enough. Hermione was happy for him. He had done a lot of growing up over the summer, but he still had a ways to go. Perhaps he would find fulfillment at school and be able to stand on his own two feet for the first time in his life. She hoped he would.

Of course, it was still hard to believe just how many people had been lost in the war. A lot of the people were nameless, faceless, but Hermione had known a few. Aside from Percy, Colin Creevey, Professor Snape, Amelia Bones, Lavender Brown, and Michael Corner had died. Hermione had made sure to attend each funeral, if only to support their loved ones.

As for the Death Eaters that died, Hermione had to admit that she didn't much care about them. They had sided with a madman and were so full of their own anger and prejudice that they deserved what they got. The rest of the Death Eaters were rounded up within a few months and sent to Azkaban where they belonged.

Life was peaceful for the first time Hermione could remember since she turned eleven. She chuckled at the thought, and Draco looked up at her. He tilted his head questioningly. She smiled at the picture of her boyfriend and daughter.

"I'm just thinking about how life is peaceful for the first time since I turned eleven," she said quietly.

Draco fought back a laugh. He clearly didn't want to wake Carina from her nap. "It's peaceful for the first time ever for me," he whispered.

Hermione nodded. She knew that. His childhood had not been great, and his father had blocked out any happiness through most of his teen years. Draco hadn't found anything worth living for until they got together. Hermione took a lot of pride in knowing that she had turned his life around.

After a moment, Draco stood up and placed Carina in the bassinet. He jerked his head in the direction of the front door, and Hermione followed him. Once on the front porch, they both just gazed out at the sun setting over the ocean. It was beautiful. Hermione slipped her hand into Draco's, waiting patiently for him to say what he clearly needed to say. It took a good ten minutes before he tore his eyes from the water to look at her. She had never seen such vulnerability on his face, even with all they had gone through.

"What's wrong?" she asked him worriedly.

Draco mustered a halfhearted grin. "Nothing's wrong. I just . . . I wanted to talk," he finished lamely.

Hermione scrutinized his face. "What about?"

He took a deep breath. "Us, I suppose."

"What?" Hermione's chest was filling with dread. It weighed heavily on her, like it would drag her through the porch and into the ground.

"Nothing bad, I promise," he said when he noticed her expression.

"O-okay," she stuttered. "Don't scare me like that."

He chuckled nervously and ran his hand through his hair. "The thing is, I'm not great with words. I think you know that."

She shook her head. "I can think of several times you've been rather . . . eloquent," she teased, smirking.

Draco snorted. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, okay. Please continue."

He nodded and looked at his feet. "Like I said, I'm not great with words. I was raised to never feel emotion, let alone show it. You've helped me get past that so much in the last year. And I love you."

When several moments went by without him speaking, Hermione said, "I love you too, you know."

He looked back at her. "I know. I guess I just . . . My mother said it would be better if . . ." He sighed, appearing angry with himself.

"Draco, just spit it out already," Hermione said. She knew he needed a bit of a push if he was going to get to it any time soon.

"I want to marry you!" he nearly shouted. "Damn it, that was supposed to be so much better."

Hermione took a step closer and cupped his face in her hands. "Draco, I don't care if you recite poetry or sing or shower the floor in rose petals. I love you more than life itself. Of course I'll marry you."

A look of relief washed over him, and he pulled her into a kiss. "I love you," he murmured against her lips. "I love you so much."

She tucked herself into his arms. Life was good.


End file.
